0s>‘\c.'e  CToHm'} 
fij'  /a^o 


i: 


MARY  LEE; 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND 


BY 


PAUL  PEPPERGRASS,  ESQ. 

AUTHOR  OF  “ SHANDY  M'GUIKE,” 

“ THE  SP^WIFE,”  ETC. 


BOSTON: 

PATRICK  DONA  HOE 

' Boylston  Street. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859, 

By  kelly,  HEDIAN  & PIET, 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  State  of  Maryland. 


Elcctrotyped  at  the  Boston  Stereotype  Foundry, 
No.  19  Spring  Lane. 


XjN6o  / irr PTd  rJ 


TO  THE  PUBLIC. 


Dear  Public  : Once  more  come  we,  knocking  at  your 
door,  to  beg  the  crumbs  of  your  charity. 

Twice  before,  indeed,  have  you  taken  us  in,  and  twice, 
going  out,  have  our  grateful  tears  besprinkled  the  flags 
of  your  threshold.  But  then  it  was  our  own  cause  we 
pleaded  ; now  we  plead  the  cause  of  another ; we  bring 
to  your  arms  a desolate  orphan,  not  three  days  old,  and 
without  a relative  in  the  world.  Its  dying  parent  be- 
queathed it  to  you,  in  the  strong  hope,  that  slender  as 
its  claim  was  on  your  sympathy,  you  would  not  have  the 
heart  to  reject  it.  After  the  many  favors  we  ourselves 
have  received  at  your  hands,  it  would  be  indelicate  in  us 
to  do  more  than  submit  the  case  without  word  or  com- 
ment  to  your  benevolent  consideration.  The  following 
rj  letters  will  best  explain  the  melancholy  circumstances 
which  brought  the  little  adventurer  to  employ  so  poor  an 
^ advocate,  and  one,  alas  1 in  every  respect,  so  unworthy 
^ the  sacred  trust. 

^ Your  grateful  servant, 

P.  Peppergrass. 


■ 'r  'voyages  by  land  and  sea,  here  I am 

mv  1 ® ^ pallet  in  Gooseberry  Lane,  with 

mffnUhfT  C ’ r**  “y  pillow. 

ul,  my  faithful  college  chum,  what  a desperate  effort  I made  to 

3 


4 


TO  THE  PUBLIC. 


reach  you ! Somehow  I always  fancied,  if  I could  only  have  another  sight 
of  your  honest,  “ sonsie  face,  and  the  promise  of  a quiet  little  corner  in 
3^our  family  grave  lot,  I should  die  the  happier.  Besides,  as  I never  be- 
longed to  any  one  in  particular,  I felt  you  had  a sort  of  claim  on  m3"  re- 
mains. But  it’s  all  over  with  me  now,  and  so  God’s  will  be  done ! I’m 
a crazy,  good-for-nothing,  ill-tempered  creature,  any  way,  and  the  sooner 
I’m  put  out  of  the  way  of  decent,  useful  people,  the  better.  I suppose  I 
needn’t  tell  you  what  I’m  dying  of — the  rheumatism,  of  course:  what 
else  could  it  be  ? The  villain  knocked  me  down  twice  before,  you  remem- 
ber, and  then  compromised  it ; but  this  time  he  has  fairly  got  death’s  grip 
of  me,  and  refuses,  point  blank,  to  let  me  off  on  any  terms.  The  priest 
and  doctor  were  both  here  this  morning,  and  shook  hands  with  me  at 
parting.  So  my  time,  you  see,  is  but  short.  Well,  at  all  events  I’m  pre- 
pared— that  is,  in  a kind  of  fashion,  not  so  well  as  I ought  of  course,  but 
still  better  than  I deserve  to  be,  considering  the  Edie  Ochiltree  life  I led 
since  I abandoned  theology  and  the  cassock.  As  for  the  world,  I forgive 
it  for  all  the  shaby  treatment  I ever  received  at  its  hands,  and  upon  my 
word,  Paul,  I received  my  share.  It’s  of  no  use,  though,  to  carry  our 
grudges  with  us  to  the  grave ; and,  indeed,  even  if  it  were,  I never  felt 
much  disposed  that  way.  Besides,  the  world  has  sins  enough  to  answer 
for,  God  knows,  without  adding  the  injuries  it  has  done  me  to  the  account. 
So  I shake  hands,  and  forgive  it.  And  now,  Paul,  there’s  one  request  I 
have  to  make,  and  for  the  sake  of  the  old  times,  I hope  you’ll  not  refuse  it, 
namely : When  you  come  here  and  find  me  dead  and  gone,  don’t  mind 
asking  any  questions,  for  nobody  knows  me  but  as  the  lame  pilgrim,  who 
frightened  the  children,  and  lived  in  a garret  in  Gooseberry  Lane.  Say 
nothings  but  just  ask  the  apple  woman,  who  lets  me  the  room,  for  the 
black  leather  bag  I kept  under  my  pillow.  Put  your  hand  down  to  the 
bottom,  and  draw  out  “ Mary  Lee.”  It’s  the  last  of  the  collection,  and, 
for  aught  I know  to  the  contrary,  the  best  of  them  all.  Take  it  home 
with  you,  brush  it  up  a little,  and  give  it  to  some  charitable  publisher,  if 
you  happen  to  know  or  hear  of  any  such  person  in  that  part  of  the  world. 
Should  the  little  thing  bring  a few  dollars,  buy  me  a modest  head-stone  of 
gray  marble  and  inscribe  my  name  on  the  corner  — Peter  Pinkie  — no 
more.  For  the  rest,  I bequeath  you  all  my  worldly  goods,  to  wit : my  sil- 
ver snuff-box  (but  by  the  way,  now  that  I think  of  it,  the  half  of  that  same 
belongs  to  you  already)  and  my  ivory-headed  crab-tree  staff,  both  which 
Father  Mahony  (by  the  same  token  he’s  first  cousin  to  Father  Prout  of 
the  Prout  Papers)  will  deliver  you  on  presenting  this  letter.  And  now, 
dear  Paul,  before  I bid  good  by,  let  me  entreat  you  to  say  a few  prayers  for 
me,  once  and  again,  when  you  haye  leisure  — for  alas ! alas ! I need  them 
sadly.  Say  them  quietly,  just  as  we  used  to  say  them  together  long  ago 
at  the  Virgin  altar  in  the  college  chapel,  and  say  them  away  by  yourself 
in  some  lonelv  corner  of  the  church,  where  the  shadow  falls  deepest. 
God  be  with  you,  Paul. 


Yours  as  ever. 


P.  Pinkie. 


TO  THE  PUBLIC. 


6 


On  reaching  New  Orleans  we  hastened  with  all  possible 
speed  to  Gooseberry  Lane,  hoping  to  find  our  venerable 
friend  still  alive  ; but  alas  ! we  came  too  late.  Early  that 
morning  the  remains  of  a stranger  whom  nobody  knew, 
but  who  went  by  the  name  of  Peter  Pinkie,  were  carried 
out  to  their  final  resting  place,  and  deposited  in  a shady* 
little  corner  of  the  Catholic  cemetery.  Intend  to  visiting 
the  grave  next  day,  and  leave  directions  for  the  head- 
stone of  gray  marble,  we  took  occasion  in  the  interval  to 
call  on  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mahony,  and  after  tendering  our 
most  grateful  thanks  for  his  kindness  to  our  dear  old 
friend  and  fellow-student,  received  from  his  venerable 
hands  the  silver  snuff-box,  the  crab-tree  staff,  and  the  fol- 
lowing letter  of  explanation,  written  apparently  but  a 
few  hours  before  his  death.  p p 

Dear  Paul  : I have  some  remarks  to  make  about  “ Mary  Lee,”  and 
can’t  compose  myself  to  die  happy  without  making  them.  So  I just 
swallowed  an  anodyne,  and  had  the  apple  woman  fix  up  the  foot-board 
for  a writing  desk. 

I know  well  when  you  read  the  opening  paragraph  you’ll  shrug  up 
your  shoulders  in  the  old  way,  and  pitch  the  manuscript  across  the  table 
to  your  friend  Dr.  Grippinlip,  with  a “ psaugh ! nonsense ! what  does  the 
silly  fellow  mean  by  such  an  introduction  as  that  ? ” But  think  what  you 
please,  Paul ; I can’t  help  it.  It  was  always  my  way,  you  know,  to  go 
straight  to  the  point ; or,  as  our  first  Latin  master,  Terence  Hardiman, 
used  to  say,  to  dive  in  medias  res  plump  as  a pearl  fisher ! I wouldn’t  think 
of  Terry  now  either,  I suspect,  only  the  silver  snuff-box  he  left  us  is  here 
before  me  on  the  foot-board,  and  the  curly-headed  cobbler  on  the  lid  is 
looking  straight  in  my  face.  But  independently  of  that,  my  early  memo- 
ries crowd  on  me  now  faster  and  clearer  than  ever.  Sometimes  I catch 
myself  thinking  of  old  Sangrado  at  the  college,  and  old  Etty  at  the  infir- 
mary coming  in  coughing  every  morning,  with  her  pharmacopoeia  under 
her  arm.  And  what  do  you  think  ? I was  dreaming  all  last  night  about  the 
rush  crosses  we  used  to  weave  at  Michaelmas,  and  the  sedging  boats  we 
sailed  in  partnership  on  the  round  pond  before  my  father’s  door.  They 
looked  to  me  just  as  green  and  natural  as  the  leaves  I sa  w yesterday.  I don’t 
know  how  it  happens,  but  my  thoughts  are  ever  stumbling  over  old  times 
and  old  places ; do  what  I will,  I can’t  control  them.  I half  suspect  it’s  the 


6 


TO  THE  PUBLIC. 


usual  sign  of  death  — the  parting  look  which  the  spirit  casts  back  on  the 
opening  scenes  of  its  young  and  joyous  life,  ere  it  sinks  and  is  swallowed 
up  forever  in  the  source  of  its  being  — just  like  the  setting  sun  taking  his 
farewell  look  of  earth  — the  last  one,  the  brightest  and  fondest  of  all.  But 
I fear  I’m  digressing. 

I was  going  to  observe  that  if  you  expected  me  to  write  a preface  to 
**  Mary  Lee  ” according  to  the  ordinary  standards  made  and  provided,  you 
will  be  entirely  disappointed  ; for  I may  as  well  tell  you,  first  as  last,  I feel 
'that  I cherish  a most  inveterate  horror  for  the  whole  prolegomena  family  — 
prefaces,  prologues,  introductions,  and  explanations;  and  this,  in  duty 
bound  to  tell  you  before  I proceed  a step  farther,  has  ever  been  my  unfor- 
tunate weakness  since  I went  to  study  theology,  five  and  twenty  years  ago, 
at  Louvain,  under  the  celebrated  Father  Brenengo.  He  was  the  most  te- 
dious man  in  coming  to  a point  that  ever  shaped  a syllogism.  He  often 
spent  two  mortal  hours  laying  down  the  state  of  the  question,  and  found 
himself  then  just  as  far  from  the  difficulty  as  ever.  Every  thing  having 
the  slightest  fibre  of  connection  with  the  subject  was  drawn  in  to  complicate 
it.  No  chancery  lawyer  could  hold  a candle  to  him  in  that  respect.  Old 
as  I am  now,  Paul,  an(^  near  as  I creep  to  the  grave,  the  sound  of  that 
man’s  voice  rings  as  distinctly  in  my  ear  as  when  I last  sat  listening  to  it 
in  Louvain.  I never  catch  the  noise  of  a spinning  wheel,  or  a moth 
ticking  in  the  bed-post;  but  I hear  Father  Brenengo  as  plainly  as  ever. 
He  never  tired ; there  was  nothing  of  him  to  tire  but  bone  and  sinew,  and 
very  little  of  that  to  spare  either;  but  what  did  remain  was  brought  by  a 
practice  of  forty  years  to  work  like  machinery.  Talking  was  no  trouble 
to  him  — the  words  rolled  out  from  his  thin  lips  like  sounds  from  an  autom- 
aton mandarin.  On  the  occasion,  however,  to  which  I would  particularly 
refer,  the  question  before  the  class  was,  the  Sacrifice  of  Abraham,  and  the 
difficulty  as  usual  in  the  Thomistic  distinction  of  the  divine  wills.  Never 
did  man  speak  as  he  spoke  that  day,  laying  down  his  preliminaries,  and 
yet  never  venturing  within  sight  of  the  question  at  issue.  The  class  fell 
asleep,  but,^arwm  refert,  on  he  drove  through  it,  shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders till  you  could  almost  hear  the  friction  of  the  bones,  and  rapping  the 
desk  all  the  while  with’ his  terrible  knuckles.  For  the  first  hour  I bore  it 
with  patience ; an  hour  and  a half  passed,  and  still,  though  my  nerves 
were  considerably  excited,  I managed  to  control  them  sufficiently  to  sit 
quiet.  At  last,  however,  I was  overpowered  by  a sort  of  delirium  ; my 
head  grew  dizzy,  my  breath  came  thick  and  short,  like  one  after  a long 
race,  and,  yelling  like  a maniac,  I sprang  at  one  bound  across  the  desk, 
and  hurled  a quarto  volume  of  Bellarmine  at  the  lecturer’s  venerable  head. 
“ Hold  him ! ” I cried ; “ hold  him ! stop  him  or  he’ll  kill  me,  he’ll  murder 
me ! ” His  squeaking  voice  acting  like  a rasp  on  my  nerves,  hour  after 
hour,  drove  me,  in  fact,  to  desperation.  Heaven  forgive  me,  Paul,  I could 
have  cloven  him  that  instant  to  the  brisket.  One  of  my  classmates  laid  hold 
of  my  collar  to  drag  me  back,  but  I flung  him  from  me  as  I wonld  an  in- 
fant, and  rushing  from  the  hall,  fled,  down  the  corridor,  my  long  hair  float- 
ing back  on  my  collar,  and  my  eyes  leaping  from  their  sockets  in  my 


TO  THE  PUBLIC. 


7 


eagerness  to  escape.  That  act  of  mine,  dear  Paul,  sealed  my  fate  forever. 
In  the  evening  the  physician  called  at  my  room,  and  politely  ordered 
me  three  tumblers  of  valerian  to  settle  my  nerves ; next  day  the  dean 
handed  me  forty  dollars  to  pay  my  travelling  expenses  to  Buncrana,  and 
a letter  of  explanation  to  my  worthy  bishop ; and  in  two  hours  after,  just 
as  the  bells  of  the  city  rang  out  the  Angelus,  I bid  adieu  to  Louvain,  Fa- 
ther Brenengo,  and  theology  forever.  Since  that  unfortunate  day,  it’s 
needless  to  tell  you,  I regard  every  thing  in  the  shape  of  introductions  with 
indescribable  horror.  And  where’s  the  wonder  ? Have  they  not,  at  one 
blow,  annihilated  all  my  cherished  hopes,  stripped  me  of  stole  and  cassock, 
driven  me  out  a wanderer  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  consigned  me  at 
last  to  isolation,  snuff-taking,  poverty,  and  a garret  ? 

Here  the  manuscript  grows  so  shaky,  owing,  no  doubt, 
to  the  increasing  violence  of  the  rheumatism,  as  to  be  en- 
tirely illegible.  It  is  generally  supposed,  however,  by 
his  friends  in  Ireland  most  familiar  with  his  handwriting, 
that  the  closing  sentences  were  meant  for  a humble 
apology  to  the  public  for  having  ever  presumed  to  occu- 
py a moment  of  its  valuable  time,  and  especially  for  the 
many  faults  and  anachronisms  in  Mary  Lee. 

The  following  note  was  found,  some  days  after  the  ed- 
itor's departure,  in  a corner  of  the  old  black  bag,  and 
carefully  forwarded  to  his  address  by  the  apple  woman 
above  mentioned.  In  her  very  remarkable  epistle  enclos- 
ing the  relic,  she  candidly  admits  never  having  imagined 
for  one  moment  that  the  bit  o’  ritin  ” could  be  of  any 
earthly  use  to  any  body,  and  as  for  his  spirit  ” coming 
back  in  search  of  it,  she  hadn’t  the  least  fear  of  that  in 
the  world  ; for  the  truth  was,  she  didn’t  believe  in  ghosts 
herself,  nor  one  belonging  to  her ; but  still  every  body 
had  a right  to  their  own,  and  besides,  Mr.  Pinkie  being 
the  strange  kind  of  man  he  was,  she  didn’t  fancy  much 
retaining  any  part  of  his  property  in  her  possession,  and 
would  just  sleep  as  sound,  perhaps,  after  clearing  her 
skirts  of  him,  bag  and  baggage.  The  note  ran  as 
follows  : — 


8 


TO  THE  PUBLIC 


POSTSCRIPT. 

As  my  time  draws  near,  I begin  to  feel  more  and  more  uneasy  about  the 
spot  where  the  strangers  will  lay  my  remains.  Of  course  you’ll  laugh  at 
me  for  this,  Paul,  and  no  wonder  either,  for  upon  my  word  I never  once 
thought  I should  feel  so  particular  about  it.  But  it’s  only  another  proof, 
I suppose,  that  the  poor  body  must  always  be  our  greatest  trouble  even  to 
the  very  last.  And  so  I made  some  inquiries  about  the  burial  ground  this 
morning  of  Father  Mahony’s  clerk.  His  description,  I assure  you,  is  by 
no  means  satisfactory.  He  tells  me  there’s  not  an  ivy  wall,  nor  a moulder- 
ing ruin,  nor  an  old  hawthorn,  nor  in  fact  any  other  shred  of  Christianity, 
to  be  seen  in  the  place  — what’s  more,  there’s  not  a fern  to  shelter  a grave, 
and  even  the  grass  of  the  field  is  as  wiry  and  sparse  as  the  hair  on  my 
head.  By  all  accounts,  dear  Paul,  it’s  a very  uncomfortable  and  “ unchris- 
tianable  ” place  to  be  buried,  and  so  I would  take  it  as  a great  personal 
favor,  and  one  I’ll  not  forget  in  the  land  I’m  going  to,  if  you  could  just 
manage  in  some  way  to  take  my  bones  home  with  you  to  your  own  quiet 
lot,  or,  what  would  please  me  a thousand  times  better,  send  them  back  to 
Ireland  again  by  the  first  trusty  Innishowen  man  you  hear  of  returning 
to  Buncrana.  But  do  as  you  will,  bring  them  or  send  them ; I bequeath 
them  to  you. 


P.  P. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I, 

PAGE 

Introductory,  

CHAPTER  IL 

Is  in  a slight  Degree  illustrative  of  Incidents  in  Irish  Life,  . . 20 

CHAPTER  III. 

Mr.  Weeks  tries  his  Hand  at  Fly-fishing,  but  finds  the  Sport 
rather  below  his  Expectations.  — Lanty  Hanlon  looks  on,  and 
indulges  in  most  indignant  Criticisms  on  Mr.  Weeks’s  Manner 
of  playing  the  Fish, 23 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Lanty’s  Propensities. — Weeks  introduces  himself  into  the 
Lighthouse.  — Finds  the  Keeper  engaged  shooting  Holland 
Hawks.  — Takes  a Crack  at  one  himself.  — Assures  the 
Keeper  Yankee  Boys  can  hit  Swallows  with  a Rifle  Ball.  — 
Recommends  the  Importation  of  Yankee  Lecturers  to 
smarten  the  Irish  Nation, 36 

CHAPTER  Y. 

Mr.  Weeks  is  introduced  to  Captain  Tom  Petersham,  and  is  in- 
vited by  that  Gentleman  to  spend  a Day  at  Castle  Gregory.  — 

He  also  has  the  good  Luck  to  catch  a Glimpse  of  Mary  Lee,  . 58 

9 


10 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Uncle  Jerry.  — His  Character.  — The  Shipwreck  at  Ballyhernan,  74 

CHAPTER  YII. 

Mr.  Weeks  begins  to  think  Ireland  not  so  very  green  a Country 
after  all,  and  rather  unsafe  for  Matrimonial  Speculations,  . . 95 

CHAPTER  YIH. 

Lanty  acknowledges  his  Weakness  for  Fishing  and  Field  Sports, 
but  thinks  Father  Brennan’s  Table  nothing  the  worse  for  that. 

— Dr.  Henshaw  is  suddenly  presented  to  the  Reader,  and 
Uncle  Jerry  discovered  in  the  Bottom  of  a Boat,  supporting 
the  Negro  with  the  broken  Toes, 110 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Being  the  shortest  Chapter  in  the  Book,  is  devoted  exclusively 
to  Mr.  Weeks, 122 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  Outlaw’s  Interview  with  Else  Curley.  — Her  Hatred  of  the 
Hardwrinkles,  and  its  Cause.  — Barry  evades  the  detective 
Officers,  125 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Weeks  thinks  himself  very  ill  treated,  and  the  Irish  the  most 
savage,  beggarly  “Varmint  in  all  Creation.”  — He  is  con- 
ducted to  a Wedding,  and  having  taken  a Glass  or  two,  under 
Protest,  dances  an  Irish  Jig,  to  the  great  Delight  of  the 
Company, 141 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Kate  Petersham  at  Castle  Gregory.  — Dr.  Henshaw’s  Catho- 
licity proves  rather  strong  both  for  Kate  and  the  Priest.  — The 


CONTENTS 


11 


Doctor,  like  Mr.  Weeks,  forms  a very  bad  Opinion  of  Ireland 
and  its  Inhabitants.  — Lanty  plays  an  Irish  Trick.  — Its  Con- 
sequences,   159 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Dr.  Henshaw’s  Pride  is  deeply  wounded.  — To  betaken  for  a 
Burglar,  and  treated  as  a Burglar,  is  more  than  he  felt  pre- 
pared to  put  up  with.  — Captain  Petersham  apologizes  for  his 
Blunder,  but  to  no  Purpose, -177 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Kate  and  Else  at  the  Bedside  of  the  Cabin  Boy.  — Else  begins 
to  suspect  the  little  Fellow  will  yet  unravel  a Mystery.  — A 
Visit  from  Kate  Petersham,  who  receives  a Letter  from  Lanty 
Hanlon,  announcing  Randall  Barry’s  Arrest, 187 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Weeks  begins  to  develop  himself.  — The  Hardwrinkles.  — Rob- 
ert Hardwrinkle’s  ultimate  Designs  on  Mary  Lee.  — Visit 
from  Constabulary  Officer, 199 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

Reflection  on  an  Irish  Churchyard. — Miss  Rebecca  and  her 
Cousin  Weeks. — Piety  and  Infidelity, 220 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Weeks  visits  Mrs.  Motherly.. — A Conversation  on  Slavery. — 
Weeks  seems  rather  disagreeably  surprised  to  meet  an  old 
Acquaintance  in  Uncle  Jerry’s  Negro, 229 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Mr.  Weeks  treats  himself  to  a Ride  on  a Rathlin  Pony.  — Its 
Consequences.  — ^^Kate  takes  him  with  her  to  Castle  Gregory,  238 


12 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Uncle  Jerry  and  the  “Three  Twins.”  — A Surprise, 249 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Mr.  Weeks  professes  Washingtonian  Principles,  but  is  induced, 
notwithstanding,  to  taste  Whiskey  Punch.  — Its  wonderful 
Effects, 255 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Mr.  Weeks  grows  eloquent  after  the  second  Tumbler,  and 
makes  a crack  Speech,  but  declines  a Duel  with  the  Light- 


keeper  as  not  being  in  his  line, 265 

CHAPTER  XXIL 

Else  and  Mary.  — The  Solitary  and  her  Foster-child, 281 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 


Lanty  takes  the  Loan  of  Miss  Hardwrinkle,  and  carries  her  off 
on  a Pillion.  — Else  feels  certain  she  has  discovered  a Clew 
to  the  Mystery, 289 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Uncle  Jerry  and  Mrs.  Motherly  quarrel,  and  the  Captain  sug- 
gests a Means  of  Reconciliation,  298 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Mrs.  Motherly,  before  quitting  the  House  forever,  wishes  to 
leave  some  Directions  about  her  Master’s  Flannels.  — Mr. 
Guirkie,  in  the  mean  time,  sheds  Tears  over  the  Portrait  of 
Mary’s  Mother.  — His  first  Love  and  his  last,  306 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

The  Priest  and  Dr.  Henshaw.  — The  Influence  of  Catholicity. 


CONTENTS. 


13 


— Its  attractive  and  repulsive  Features.  — The  Priest's  Gar- 
den and  the  old  Tombstone, 317 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Eandall  Barry's  Trial.  — Kate  Petersham  on  Moll  Pitcher.  — 

She  balks,  but  facing  the  Wall  a second  Time,  clears  it.  — The 
Negro  on  the  Witness  Stand.  — Else  Curley  comforts  Kobert 
Hardwrinkle, 328 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Trial  continued.  — Else  charges  Hardwrinkle  with  Conspiracy 
to  carry  off  Mary  Lee.  — She  proves  William  Talbot,  Mary’s 
Father,  to  be  still  living,  by  Means  of  the  Rosary  found  on 
the  Person  of  the  Cabin  Boy.  — Mary's  Feelings  overpower 
her  on  hearing  the  Announcement.  — The  Rescue  of  the 
Rebel.  — The  Riot.  — Hardwrinkle's  Death, 344 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Weeks  escapes  in  the  Riot.  — Is  pursued  by  a Constable.  — 
Climbs  over  a Wall,  leaving  his  Coat-tail  behind  him  in  the 
Constable’s  Hands,  and  finally  disappears.  — Else  takes  her 
Leave,  and  retires  to  Benraven  Mountain,  there  to  pass  the 
Remainder  of  her  Life.  — Lanty  Hanlon,  in  the  Dress  of  an 
old  Woman,  winds  up  the  Story. — Postscript,  which  is 
Characteristic  of  the  Author  of  the  Preface,  terminates  the 
Story  in  manner  similar  to  that  in  which  it  began, 379 


MART  LEE 


CHAPTEK  I. 

Introductory. 

Dear  reader,  have  the  goodness  to  run  your  finger 
down  the  map  of  Ireland  to  its  northernmost  point,  or,  if 
that  be  inconvenient,  let  your  imagination  run  down 
without  it  to  the  easternmost  promontory  of  the  County 
Donegal ; you  shall  then  have  transported  yourself  with- 
out trouble  or  expense,  and  in  a manner  suitable  enough 
for  our  purpose,  to  the  spot  where  our  story  commences. 

It  may  happen,  however,  in  this  rambling  age,  that  one 
day  or  other  you  would  grow  tired  of  travelling  by  the 
map  and  hand-book,  and  make  up  your  mind  to  quit  the 
fireside  and  see  the  world  for  yourself — preferring  your 
own  eyes  to  your  neighbors^  spectacles.  After  a long 
tour  through  Europe  you  may  yet,  some  fine  evening  in 
August  or  September,  find  yourself  standing  on  the  pier 
of  Leith  or  Dunbarton  heights,  looking  across  the  channel, 
and  wishing  you  were  in  Ireland.  Don^t  resist  the  temp- 
tation, we  pray  thee,  but  leaving  your  national  prejudices 
behind  you  with  your  Scotch  landlord,  book  yourself  for 
Dublin,  in  the  first  packet,  and  with  a good  conscience 
and  an  honest  heart  take  a trip  over  the  water,  and  visit, 
were  it  only  for  a week,  the  land  of  poverty,  gallantry, 
and  song. 

If,  however,  you  happen  to  be  one  of  those  very  re- 
spectable young  gentlemen  who  go  over  to  make  pic- 
tures of  Irish  life,  with  the  view  of  being  stared  at  and 
lionized  in  village  drawing-rooms  on  their  return  — one 
of  those  extremely  talented  and  promising  young  men, 

15 


16 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


who  voyage  in  crowds  every  year,  for  a supply  of  Irish 
barbarisms  and  Romish  superstitions,  — if  you  happen,  we 
say,  to  be  of  that  class,  let  us  remind  you,  dear  reader, 
that  the  Mull  of  Cantyre  is  a dangerous  sea,  worse  by  all 
odds  than  the  Bay  of  Biscay.  Don’t  venture  through  it 
by  any  means,  but  like  a prudent  young  man,  finish  your 
tour  with  Ben  Lomond  and  the  Trosachs,  and  return 
home  to  the  States  with  as  little  delay  as  possible.  As 
for  the  Irish  peculiarities  you  would  go  in  quest  of,  they 
are  now  very  scarce  and  difficult  to  procure  — we  mean 
fresh  ones,  of  course,  for  the  old  sets  are  bruised  so  much 
in  the  handling  as  to  be  entirely  valueless  ; even  the 
manufacturers  of  the  article,  who  made  so  jolly  a living 
on  the  simplicity  of  stripling  tourists  twenty  years  ago, 
are  no  longer  in  existence.  They  have  passed  away  as 
an  effete  race,  and  are  now  dead,  gone,  and  forgotten. 
Pictures  of  Irish  life  are  indeed  very  difficult  to  dispose 
of,  at  present,  either  to  the  pulpit,  the  Sunday  newspa- 
pers, or  even  the  Foreign  Benevolent  Societies,  unless 
they  happen  to  be  drawn  by  master  hands.  Such  pic- 
tures, for  instance,  as  the  Priest  and  the  Bottle,”  the 
Fiddler  and  the  Beggars,”  the  Confessor  and  the 
Nun,”  have  lost  all  point,  since  Mr.  Thackeray’s  visit  to 
that  country,  and  are  now  grown  as  stale  and  fiat  as 
small  beer  drippings  off  a pot-house  counter.  Twenty 
years  ago,  however,  the  case  was  very  different.  An 
Irishman  then,  in  certain  sections  of  the  United  States, 
was  as  great  a wonder  as  a Bengal  tiger,  or  an  Abyssin- 
ian elephant ; and  he  felt  so  far  below  the  ordinary 
standard  of  humanity  in  those  days,  as  to  be  considered 
unaccountable  to  human  laws.  We  have  ourselves  been 
assured,  on  most  excellent  authority,  that  certain  ladies 
of  Maine,  even  within  the  time  mentioned,  actually  went 
as  a delegation  to  an  unfortunate  Irishman,  who  strayed 
into  their  neighborhood,  and  set  about  manipulating  his 
head  all  over,  in  order  to  ascertain,  by  personal  inspec- 
tion, whether  his  horns  grew  on  the  fore  or  hind  part 
of  his  cranium.  The  manner  of  their  reception,  by  the 
courteous  and  gallant  barbarian,  is  still  related  by  some 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


17 


of  the  actors  in  the  little  melo-drama,  and  though  quite 
characteristic  of  his  race,  would  hardly  be  accounted 
edifying  in  this  simple  narrative.  This  much,  however, 
we  may  venture  to  affirm,  that  since  the  event  took 
place,  there  has  been  but  one  opinion  on  the  subject  in 
that  locality  — that  the  Irish  wear  no  horns  of  any  de- 
scription whatever,  either  behind  or  before  — are  en- 
dowed with  the  ordinary  feelings  and  senses  peculiar  to 
the  human  family  — and  exhibit  arms  and  legs,  hands 
and  hair,  precisely  like  their  Norman  and  Anglo-Saxon 
neighbors. 

But  whilst  they  assimilate  thus  in  all  their  physical 
developments,  there  are  still  certain  national  peculiarities 
which  distinguish  them  from  the  people  of  all  other 
nations.  In  the  first  place,  the  brogue  is  very  peculiar. 
It  differs  from  that  of  the  Scotch  Highlander,  the  Ver- 
monter, and  the  German,  in  what  is  called  intensity  of 
accentuation  — and  it  is  very  remarkable  that  this  pecu- 
liar intensity  of  accentuation  is  most  striking  when  they 
speak  on  subjects  in  any  way  connected  with  religion  — - 
the  broad  sound  of  the  vowels,  which  they  have  still  re- 
tained since  their  old  classic  days,  exhibiting  a striking 
contrast  with  the  reformed  method  of  pronunciation. 
The  collocation  of  their  words,  too,  sounding  so  strange 
to  unclassic  ears,  — though  admirable  in  the  Italian  and 
French,  — contributes  perhaps  in  some  degree  to  aggra- 
vate the  barbarism.  But  we  must  not  venture  on  details, 
or  we  should  never  have  done ; suffice  it  to  say,  that 
according  to  all  accounts,  and  particularly  the  accounts 
of  American  tourists,  the  Irish  are,  one  and  all,  the 
strangest  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth.  They  never 
do  anything,  we  are  told,  like  other  people.  Whatever 
they  put  their  hands  to,  from  peeling  a potato  to  shoot- 
ing a landlord,  they  have  their  own  peculiar  way  of  doing 
it.  Whether  they  eat  or  drink,  walk  or  sleep,  tie  their 
shoes  or  pick  their  teeth,  they  are  noted  for  their  won- 
derful originality.  And  it  is  not  the  people  only,  but, 
strange  to  say,  the  very  cows  and  horses  in  that  remark- 
able country  bellow  and  neigh  quite  differently  from 
2 * 


18 


MAllY  LEE,  OR 


those  of  other  nations  — the  tone  and  style  being  quite 
unique,  or,  in  other  words,  ''  peculiarly  Irish/^  It^s  but 
a few  weeks  ago  since  a certain  Mr.  Gustavus  Theodore 
Simpkings,  of  Boston,  returned  from  Ireland  with  the 
startling  discovery  that  hens  laid  their  eggs  there  in  a 
manner  quite  different  from  that  adopted  by  the  hens  of 
other  countries.  We  may  be  allowed  also  to  add,  by 
way  of  appendix  to  the  fact,  that  in  consequence  of  the 
important  nature  of  the  discovery,  a board  of  commis- 
sioners will  shortly  be  sent  over  to  investigate  the  mat- 
ter, in  order  that  the  poultry  fanciers  of  New  England 
may  take  measures  accordingly  to  promote  the  interests 
of  their  excellent  associations.  Whether  the  country  at 
large,  however,  will  approve  this  new  method  is  still  a 
disputed  question.  Our  own  opinion  is,  the  New  Eng- 
landers will  reject  it,  not  solely  because  it^s  Irish,  though 
that  indeed  would  seem  reason  sufficient,  but  rather  on 
account  of  the  danger  of  propagating  Popery  in  that 
peculiar  way.  We  have  heard  of  treason  eggs  (Mr. 
OTonnell  and  Marcus  Costello  were  arrested  over  two 
pair  of  them  in  Hornets  Coffee  Room,  Dublin,  five  and 
twenty  years  ago,  avowing  their  guilt),  and  if  treason 
could  be  propagated  in  that  fashion,  we  ask,  why  not 
Popery  ? 

Now,  after  all  this  nicety  to  which  certain  things  are 
carried,  simply  because  they  are  Irish,  it  is  quite  needless 
to  say  that  the  national  peculiarities  of  that  people  are  all 
but  exhausted,  and  consequently  the  young  tourist  fresh 
from  the  counting-room  can  expect  little  there  to  requite 
him  for  the  fatigue  and  expense  of  such  a journey. 

But,  dear  reader  mine,  if  your  heart  be  in  the  right 
place  and  above  the  reach  of  paltry  prejudice,  if  you  be 
man  enough  to  think  for  yourself,  and  instead  of  viewing 
Ireland  in  print-shop  and  pantomime,  look  at  her  face  to 
face  with  your  own  honest  eyes,  — if  you  be  deter- 
mined to  see  things  in  their  true  colors  and  to  avoid  the 
vulgar  blunder  of  mistaking  the  Irish  brogue  for  inveter- 
ate barbarism,  and  gold  watch  chains  for  genuine  civili- 
zation, — if  you  be  one  of  that  stamp,  — then  in  Ileav- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


19 


ea’s  name  step  aboard  as  soon  as  possible,  for  a crime  it 
would  be  against  your  conscience  to  turn  back  within 
sight  of  the  green  old  isle  where  Moore  and  Griffin  wept 
and  sang/^ 

Once  there,  pass  not  hurriedly  over  it,  for  every  inch  is 
classic  ground.  Not  a mountain  or  valley  from  Cape 
Clear  to  the  Giant^s  Causeway  but  has  its  old  tradition. 
If  you  ever  read  Banim  or  Morgan,  Callinan  or  Griffin, 
ask  the  guide  at  your  elbow  to  point  out,  as  you  ride 
along,  the  scenes  they  describe  and  the  monuments  they 
chronicle.  If  you  ever  listened  to  the  songs  of  Moore, 
and  felt  the  sadness  they  inspire,  stop  for  a moment  and 
gaze  on  the  venerable  ruins  to  which  they  are  consecrat- 
ed, and  they  will  seem  to  you  more  sad  and  plaintive 
than  ever.  You  may  not  weep  over  those  mouldering 
walls  and  ruined  shrines,  like  the  returning  exile  revisit- 
ing once  more  the  haunts  of  his  boyhood,  but  still, 
stranger  as  you  are,  the  very  sight  of  them  will  do  you 
good  ; the  tottering  tower,  and  the  crumbling  wall,  and 
the  holy  well,  and  the  broken  cross,  will  bring  you  salu- 
tary reflections  — will  teach  you  that  every  country,  to 
deserve  a place  in  the  record  of  nations,  must  have  a 
past,  and  that,  flourishing  as  the  republic  of  Washington 
is  now,  its  whole  history  up  to  this  hour  would  hardly 
cover  a single  page  in  the  future  annals  of  the  world. 

But,  dear  reader,  whenever  you  ramble  through  the 
old  place,  forget  not  to  visit  the  scene  of  our  story.  It 
may  not  be  so  grand  as  the  Alleghanies,  nor  so  pictur- 
esque as  the  Hudson ; but  it  will  repay  you  well,  never- 
theless, for  your  trouble.  Moreover,  it  lies  directly’'  in 
your  way  from  the  mountains  of  the  west  to  the  famous 
Giant^s  Causeway  — a wild,  solitary  spot  to  the  east  of 
those  blue  hills  that  shelter  the  fertile  valleys  of  Done- 
gal from  the  storms  of  the  Northern  Ocean. 


20 


MAKY  LEE,  OPw 


CHAPTER  II 

Is  in  a slight  Degree  illusti'ative  of  Incidents  in  Irish  Life. 

The  country  between  Fanit  or  Araheera  lighthouse  and 
the  village  of  Rathmullen,  on  the  Lough  Swilly,  is  an 
extremely  wild  and  mountainous  district,  being  indeed 
little  more  than  a succession  of  hills  rising  one  above  the 
other,  and  terminating  at  last  in  the  bald  and  towering 
scalp  of  Benraven.  Standing  on  this  elevated  spot,  the 
traveller  has  a full  view  of  the  country  for  a distance  of 
some  twenty  miles  around.  Beyond  Araheera  Point 
appears  Malin  Head,  the  northern  extremity  of  the  far- 
famed  barony  of  Innishowen,  running  far  out  into  the 
ocean,  and  heaving  back  the  billows  in  white  foam,  as 
they  break  against  his  dark  and  sulky  form.  Westward 
looms  up  the  majestic  brow  of  Horn  Head,  under  whose 
frown  a thousand  vessels  have  perished,  and  close  by  its 
side  the  famous  opening  in  the  rock  called  McSwine^s 
Gun,  thundering  like  the  roar  of  a hundred  cannon  when 
the  storm  comes  in  from  the  west.  Between  these  two 
landmarks,  standing  out  there  like  huge  sentinels  guard- 
ing the  coast,  stretches  the  long  white  shore  called  Bal- 
lyhernam  Strand,  and  between  that  and  Benraven,  the 
beautiful  quiet  little  sea  of  Mulroy,  with  its  countless 
islets  lying  under  the  long,  deep  shadows  of  the  moun- 
tains. Close  by  the  broad  base  of  the  latter — so  close 
indeed  that  you  can  hurl  a stone  from  the  top  into  the 
water  below  — is  the  calm,  quiet  lake  called  Lough  Ely, 
so  celebrated  for  its  silvery  char  and  golden  trout.  As 
the  traveller  looks  down  from  the  summit  of  Benraven, 
there  is  hardly  a sign  of  human  habitation  to  be  seen 
below,  if,  indeed,  we  except  the  lighthouse  itself,  whose 
white  tower  rises  just  visible  over  the  heads  of  the  les- 
sening hills.  But  when  he  begins  to  descend  and  pur- 
sue his  way  along  the  manor  road,  winding  as  it  runs 
through  the  dark  and  deep  recesses  of  the  mountains. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


21 


many  a comfortable  little  homestead  suddenly  meets  his 
view,  and  many  a green  meadow  and  wavy  cornfield  helps 
to  relieve  the  barren  and  desolate  character  of  the  sur- 
rounding scene. 

It  was  a fine  evening  in  June,  185- ; the  sheep,  after 
browsing  all  day  long,  were  lying  on  the  green,  sunny 
slopes  of  the  glens,  and  the  hoodie  crows,  after  their 
rambling  flight,  sat  dozing  here  and  there  on  huge  rocks 
by  the  road-side,  which  the  winter  torrents  had  de- 
tached from  the  mountains,  when  a man  might  be  seen 
wending  his  way  slowly  down  the  road  towards  Araheera 
lighthouse.  He  wore  a short  jacket  and  trousers,  some- 
what sailor  fashion,  and  kept  his  hands  thrust  into  his 
side  pockets  as  he  jogged  along,  whistling  and  singing 
by  turns  to  keep  himself  company.  Still,  though  he 
looked  at  first  not  unlike  a seafaring  man,  there  was  that 
in  his  gait  and  general  deportment  which  smacked  too 
strongly  of  the  hill-side,  to  mistake  him  for  one  accus- 
tomed to  walk  the  deck  of  a ship,  or  even  to  ply  the  oar 
in  search  of  a livelihood.  Moreover,  he  wore  a rabbit- 
skin  cap  jantily  set  on  the  side  of  his  head,  and  carried  a 
stout  blackthorn  under  his  arm  — both  which  indicated 
clearly  enough  that  his  habits  of  life  were  more  landward 
grown  than  his  dress  and  near  proximity  to  the  sea  might 
have  at  first  suggested.  But  whatever  might  have  been 
his  occupation  in  general,  he  appeared  to  have  little  to 
engage  him  this  evening,  in  particular,  for  he  loitered 
long  on  his  way,  seemingly  quite  disposed  to  take  the 
world  easy,  and  break  no  bones  in  his  hurry  to  accom- 
plish his  journey.  More  than  once  did  he  stop  to  clap 
his  hands  and  gaze  after  a hare  startled  from  her  form  by 
his  noisy  approach,  or  fling  a stone  at  a hoodie  crow 
dozing  on  the  rocks.  In  this  careless  manner  he  jogged 
along,  whistling  and  singing  as  the  humor  touched  him. 
At  first  the  words  of  his  song  were  confused  by  the 
echoes  of  the  glens,  but  grew  more  distinct  and  intelligi- 
ble as  he  descended  nearer  to  the  shore,  till  at  length 
the  following  verse  of  a very  popular  ditty  rang  out 
clear  and  strong  upon  the  ear : — 


22 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


“ Och ! the  Sassanach  villains  — de’il  tare  them ! — 

They  stripped  us  as  bare  as  the  ‘ poles ; * 

But  there’s  one  thing  we  just  couldn’t  spare  them  — 

The  ‘ Kidug  ’ that  covers  our  souls. 

Right  folderolol,  la  la,  di  di, 

Right  fala  la,  lee,”  &c.,  &c. 

He  sang  this  verse  at  least  half  a dozen  times,  at  dif- 
ferent intervals,  and  had  just  commenced  to  sing  it  once 
more,  when  all  of  a sudden  the  song  and  the  singer 
came  both  to  a full  stop.  Had  a highwayman  leaped 
from  a hedge  and  held  a pistol  to  the  traveller's  head,  he 
could  not  have  halted  more  abruptly.  In  an  instant  he 
stood  still,  gazing  at  something  he  saw  round  the  angle 
of  the  road,  and  then  buttoning  his  jacket  and  clutching 
his  blackthorn,  made  a step  forward  in  a belligerent  atti- 
tude, as  if  an  unlooked-for  enemy  had  appeared  and 
offered  him  battle.  And  so  it  was.  The  antagonist  he 
so  suddenly  encountered  had  taken  his  position  in  the 
veiy  middle  of  the  road,  and  by  his  motions  seemed  re- 
solved to  maintain  that  position  at  every  hazard.  The 
traveller,  on  the  other  hand,  was  by  no  means  slow  to 
commence  hostilities  ; for  twirling  his  staff,  without  fur- 
ther parley  he  struck  his  adversary  such  a blow  on  the 
sconce  as  might  have  been  heard  ringing  sharp  and  hard 
for  half  a mile  and  more  along  the  echoing  glen.  That 
blow,  however,  was  his  first  and  last ; for  the  next  in- 
stant he  lay  sprawling  in  the  dust,  struck  down  by  the 
superior  force  of  his  enemy^s  weapon.  Still,  though 
prostrate,  he  parried  ofi’  the  blows  of  his  assailant  with 
remarkable  adroitness,  and  would,  in  all  likelihood,  have 
soon  risen  and  fully  avenged  his  fall,  had  not  a third 
party  interfered  to  terminate  the  battle.  The  latter 
roughly  seized  the  staff  from  behind,  commanded  the 
fallen  man  to  forbear,  and  then,  in  a milder  and  more 
friendly  voice,  bade  him  get  up  on  his  feet,  and  not  lie 
there,  like  a partaun. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  lEELAND. 


23 


CH APTEE  III. 

Mr,  Weeks  tries  his  Hand  at  Fly-fishing,  hut  finds  the  Sport 

rather  below  his  Expectations,  — Lanty  Hanlon  looks  on, 

and  indulges  in  most  indignant  Criticisms  on  Mr,  Weekses 

Manner  of  playing  the  Fish, 

Get  up,  Lanty, said  the  new  comer,  get  up,  man. 
Why,  you  must  be  ravin  mad  to  strike  the  poor  witless 
crathur  that  way.  Sure,  it^s  only  ould  Nannie.  Get 
up,  man  I 

''Nannie,  or  grannie  I ejaculated  Lanty, — for  so  it 
seems  the  traveller  was  named,  — " Nannie  or  grannie, 
he  cried,  turning  short  and  shaking  himself  free  of  the 
speaker,  " she^s  an  ould  limb  o^  Satan,  — ' the  curse  o^ 
Cromwell  on  her  ! ^ 

" Pooh ! nonsense,  man  ! never  mind  her ; it^s  only  a 
way  she  has.^^ 

" A way  she  has  ! bedad,  thin  iPs  a very  on  civil  way 
she  has  ; let  me  tell  3^ou  that.  The  villanous  ould  schamer 
can^t  let  anybody  pass  without  a quarrel.  There^s  that 
Methody  preacher,  she  pounded  almost  to  death  last  week, 
— one  o^  the  civilest  sowls  in  the  whole  parish.  What  kind 
a thratement  is  that,  Pd  like  to  know,  for  any  dacent  man 
to  get ; or  is  it  neighborly  in  you,  Else  Curley,  to  keep 
such  a baste  of  a goat  about  yer  place  to  murther  people 
without  rhyme  or  raisin  ? 

" Musha  thin,  how  can  I help  her,  Lanty  ? 

"Kill  her  if  ye  can^t  — hang  her — shoot  her  — 
drown  her  — bad  luck  to  her,  she  ought  to  be  shot  long 
ago.^^ 

" Och,  as  for  that,  she ^11  soon  die,  any  way.  It^s  fail- 
ing fast  she  is,  poor  thing. 

"Die!^^  repeated  Lanty,  brushing  the  dust  off  his 
clothes  ; " die  ! sheTl  niver  die,  and  it^s  a mystery  to  me 
if  iver  she  came  into  the  world  right  at  all.^’ 


24 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Arrah,  whist  with  yer  nonsense/'  exclaimed  Else, 
''  and  don't  talk  such  foolishness.  Come  away  up  to  the 
house  here,  and  take  a draw  iv  the  pipe  if  you  don't  take 
anything  better." 

I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  Else  Curley,"  continued  the 
discomfited  Lanty  ; there's  not  a man  or  woman  in  the 
townland  of  Crowres  but  knows  that  my  father  was  chased 
by  that  same  goat  — that  very  identical  ould  rascal  there, 
the  year  before  he  was  married,  and  that's  jist  thirty  good 
years  ago,  and  more  by  the  same  token,  he  bears  the  marks 
of  her  horns  on  a part  of  his  body  to  this  day ; and  it's 
no  great  secret  either.  Else,  that  she  was  every  bit  as 
ould  then  as  she's  now.  It's  not  even'n  anything  bad  to 
ye  I am.  Else,  but  one  thing  is  sartin  as  the  sun's  in  the 
sky  — that  goat  don't  belong  to  this  world." 

The  old  woman  looked  sharp  at  her  companion,  as  if  to 
read  in  his  countenance  his  real  thoughts  on  a subject  that 
concerned  her  so  nearly,  and  about  which  she  lately  heard 
so  many  unpleasant  surmises,  but  she  could  gather  noth- 
ing from  his  looks.  She  saw  he  was  excited  by  the  fall, 
but  she  knew  him  also  to  be  one  of  the  slyest  rogues  that 
ever  put  on  a sober  face  — as  full  of  deviltry  as  an  egg 
was  full  of  meat ; and  she  doubted,  therefore,  whether  he 
meant  to  plague  or  offend  her. 

''  Lanty  Hanlon,"  said  she  at  last,  I don't  know 
whether  3^ou  spoke  that  word  in  joke  or  in  earnest ; if  ye 
spoke  in  joke  I forgive  ye,  knowing  well  what  ye  are,  and 
yer  father  afore  ye ; but  if  ye  spoke  in  earnest,  I tell  ye 
niver  to  say  the  word  again  in  my  bearin',  for  if  ye  do, 
b}^  the  blessed  Cairn  above  there.  I'll  be  revenged  for  it, 
dead  or  alive." 

Pheugh  ! " exclaimed  Lanty,  when  the  old  woman  had 
finished,  by  the  powers  o'  war,  but  you'd  frighten  a body 
out  o'  their  wits  this  evening  ! What's  the  matter,  woman  ? 
or  are  you  so  easy  vexed  as  that  with  an  ould  friend  ? " and 
he  shook  her  familiarly  by  the  arm  as  he  spoke,  and  pushed 
her  on  towards  the  cabin  to  which  she  had  just  invited  him. 
''If you  want  to  quarrel  with  me.  Else,"  he  continued, 
"you  must  take  another  day  for  it,  as  at  present  I'm 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


25 


engaged  on  particular  business.  So  up  with  you  to 
the  house  there,  and  bring  me  out  a coal  to  light  my 
pipe.^^ 

Though  Lanty  spoke  in  banter,  there  was  still  something 
in  the  expression  of  his  face  and  tone  of  his  voice  that  in- 
dicated misgivings  of  Else  Curley  after  such  a show  of  in- 
dignation. Not  that  he  suspected  her,  for  a moment,  of 
any  secret  connection  with  the  nether  world,  nor  of  keep- 
ing Nannie  for  any  unholy  purpose  ; but  nevertheless 
he  was  accustomed  to  hear  strange  reports  about  her,  ever 
since  he  remembered  to  hear  anything,  and  was  taught  to 
regard  her  as  a woman  above  the  common,  and  one  whose 
anger  was  to  be  propitiated  at  any  sacrifice.  Hence,  if 
Lanty  had  his  doubts  of  Else,  they  were  doubts  rather  of 
the  woman  than  of  her  acts,  of  her  capacity  to  work  mis- 
chief rather  than  of  her  actual  guilt.  In  a word,  he  never 
heard  or  saw  aught  of  her  but  what  was  right  and  proper, 
and  yet  somehow  he  always  fancied  she  was  uncanny, 
and  could  be  dangerous  if  she  pleased.  Perhaps  the  sharp, 
thin  features  and  large  gray  eyes  of  the  tall,  shrivelled  old 
creature,  as  she  gazed  steadily  into  Lanty ^s  face,  helped  at 
that  moment  to  aggravate  his  suspicions.  But  be  that  as 
it  may,  he  lost  no  time  in  trying  to  conciliate  her,  and 
his  experience  had  already  taught  him,  that  his  usual 
rollicking  familiarity  of  manner  would  accomplish  that 
end  more  effectually  than  any  formal  apology  he  could 
offer. 

The  house  or  cabin  to  which  Lanty  and  his  companion 
now  directed  their  steps  (Nannie  still  following  her  mis- 
tress at  a respectful  distance)  was  built  on  the  southern 
side  of  a little  green  hill,  called  the  Cairn, named  af- 
ter a pile  of  stones  upon  its  summit,  which  tradition  says 
were  thrown  there  to  mark  the  spot  where  a priest  had 
been  murdered  in  the  troublous  times  of  Cromwell  or 
Elizabeth. 

From  the  top  of  this  hill,  which  rises  only  a few  rods 
above  the  roof  of  the  cabin,  a full  view  is  had  of  the 
lighthouse,  and  Lough  Ely  from  its  eastern  to  its  western 
extremity.  The  lake,  in  fact,  at  one  of  its  bends  touches 
3 


26 


MAEY  LEE,  OE 


the  base  of  the  hill,  and  thence  stretches  to  the  light- 
house, a distance  of  little  more  than  half  a mile. 

"'And  now,  Else,  avourneen,^^  began  Lanty,  taking  his 
seat  on  a flag  outside  the  cabin  door,  (for  the  evening 
was  warm,)  ‘'now  that  we  settled  that  little  difference, 
how  is  Batt  himself,  and  how  does  the  world  use  him  ? 

‘‘  Well,  indeed  then,  we  can^t  complain  much  as  times 
go,^^  responded  Else,  drawing  her  stocking  from  her 
pocket,  and  beginning  to  knit  in  her  usual  slow,  quiet 
way  ; for  she  was  old,  and  her  hands  trembled  as  she 
plied  the  needles.  ‘‘  As  for  Batt,  poor  ould  man,  he^s 
idle  the  most  of  his  time,  and  barrin  that  he  goes  down 
to  the  shore  there  of  an  evenin  to  ketch  a trout  or  so  for 
the  supper,  it’s  little  else  he  has  to  throuble  him.” 

“ Still  he  gets  an  odd  call  now  and  then,  I’ll  warrant,” 
observed  Lanty,  knocking  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  and 
preparing  to  replenish  it  with  fresh  tobacco.  “ A man 
like  Batt  Curley  can’t  want  a job  long  if  there’s  any 
goin.” 

“0,  he  gets  his  share,  to  be  sure ; but  where’s  the 
benefit  o’  that,  when  there’s  nothing  to  be  made  by  it  ? ” 
Well,  he  makes  a trifle  over  the  price  o’  the  tibakky 
and  the  dram  any  way ; and  what  more  does  he  want  ? 
Fiddlin’s  now  not  what  it  used  to  be  in  ould  times,  Else.” 

‘‘  Indeed,  thin,  you  may  well  say  that,”  she  replied, 
‘‘when  half  a crown  a weddin’s  the  highest  he  made  this 
twelvemonth.  The  Lord  luck  down  on  us,  I don’na  how 
poor  people  can  stan  it  at  that  rate.” 

“It’s  mighty  hard,”  assented  Lanty,  handing  the  old 
woman  the  pipe,  after  wiping  it  on  the  breast  of  his  jack- 
et. “I  mind  the  time  myself  when  we  cudn’t  shake  a 
fut  at  a weddin  short  of  a shillin  apiece  to  the  fiddler. 
But  sure  the  people’s  hearts  is  broke  out  and  out.  Else 
— why,  they  haven’t  the  courage  to  dance,  eTen  if  they 
had  the  mains.” 

“ It’s  not  that,  Lanty,  acushla  ! it’s  not  that,  but  their 
hearts  is  gone  out  in  thim  althegither.  They’re  not  the 
same  people  they  used  to  be  at  all  at  all.  Nothin  shutes 
thim  now  sure  but  waltzin  and  pokin,  and  sailin  over  the 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


27 


flare  like  so  many  childer  playin  cutche-cutchoo,  and 
with  no  more  spirit  in  thim  than  so  many  puppets  at  a 
show/^ 

Bedad,  it^s  no  wondher  you  say  it,  Else — it^s  dis- 
graceful, so  it  is/^ 

''  Disgraceful  1 No  ; but  it^s  a scandal  to  the  country, 
that^s  what  it  is.  There^s  big  Jamie^s  daughter,  of 
Drumfad,  that  was  married  last  Thursday ; and  lo,  and 
behould  ye,  sir,  when  young  Tom  Connolly  asked  her 
out,  she  cudn’t  venture  on  a reel  or  a country  dance  at 
all  at  all ; 0,  no,  no  more  than  if  she  was  born  in  the 
skies ; let  alone  at  the  hip  of  Grafley  Mountain/^ 

''  Musha,  bad  luck  to  her  impudince,^^  exclaimed  Lan- 
ty  ; ''  isn’t  she  cockin  ? and  her  aunt  beggin  her  bit  and 
sup  through  the  parish.” 

Feen  a word  o’  lie  in  it  thin.  She  turned  up  her 
nose  at  the  Foxhunter’s  Jig  and  the  Rosses  Batther,  just 
as  if  she  niver  heard  iv  the  like  in  her  born  life. — and 
nothin  would  do  her,  savin  yer  favor,  but  go  skatin  over 
the  room  like  a doll  on  stilts.  Faith,  it’s  well  come  up 
with  the  pack  of  thim.” 

And  as  for  poor  Batt,”  observed  Lanty,  sich  tunes 
are  too  new-fangled  for  his  ould  fingers.  He  couldn’t 
plaze  her  av  course  ; 0,  no,  he’s  too  ould-fashioned  for 
that.” 

Plaze  her  ! Ay  indeed  ; after  dancing  in  Derry  City 
with  her  grand  cousins,  the  manti-makers.  Plaze  her  I 
No,  Pegeliny  himself,  the  great  Dublin  fiddler,  couldn’t 
plaze  her.  But  it’s  the  same  all  over  the  country  ; a 
man  can’t  show  a jug  and  glass  in  his  windy  nowadays, 
but  his  girls  take  airs  on  thimselves  aqual  to  my  Lady 
Leitrem  — all  merchants’  daughters,  if  you  plaze  ; ” and 
Else  laughed  a dry,  hard  laugh,  and  gave  the  leg  of  her 
stocking  another  hitch  under  her  arm. 

As  she  was  yet  speaking,  a stranger  passed  down  the 
road  carrying  a fishing  rod  in  his  hand,  and  stepping  over 
a low  fence,  made  his  way  slowly  to  a narrow  tongue  of 
land  that  stretched  far  out  into  Lough  Ely,  a spot  much 
frequented  by  anglers,  and  particularly  at  that  season  of 


28 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


the  year.  He  was  a man  apparently  about  thirty  years 
of  age,  and  wore  a gray  sporting  frock,  with  cap  and 
gaiters  to  match. 

That^s  the  strange  gentleman,’^  said  Else,  that 
comes  down  here  from  Crohan  to  fish  so  often. 

I saw  him  before, replied  Lanty  ; and  bedad,  if 
he  knows  as  little  about  the  gentleman  as  he  does  about 
the  fisherman  he^s  no  great  affair.  I came  across  him 
yesterday  at  Kindrum,  and  he  cast  his  line,  for  all  the 
world,  like  a smith  swinging  a sledge  hammer.  Who  is 
he?^' 

Indeed,  thin,  myself  doesn^t  know,  Lanty  ; but  Pm 
tould  he^s  come  here  from  furrin  parts  for  the  good  of 
his  health,  and  is  some  far  out  friend  to  the  Hard  wrinkles 
of  Crohan. 

I wouldn^t  doubt  it  in  the  laste,  for  he^s  thin  and 
sneaky,  like  the  rest  of  the  breed.  Still  he  may  be  a 
dacent  man,  after  all  that.^^ 

He^s  a quate,  easy-spoken  man,  any  way,  whativer 
else  he  is.^^ 

And  plenty  o’  money  to  spend.  I’ll  bail  ye.’’ 

In  troth  has  he,  and  not  a miser  about  it  aither, 
Lanty.” 

Humph  ! I see  you’re  acquent.” 

''  Och  ! ay,  he  draps  in  here  sometimes  when  he  comes 
a fishin.” 

And  opens  his  purse  when  he  goes  out,  eh.  Else  ? ” 

0,  thin,  dear  knows  the  gentleman  id  be  welkim  if 
he  niver  had  a purse,”  replied  Else.  It’s  not  for  that, 
but  the  quate,  raotherate  way  he  has.  He  comes  in  just 
like  a child,  and  looks  as  modest  as  a lady,  and  sits  there 
chattin  ithout  a bit  pride  in  him  more  nor  one  of  our- 
sels.” 

'^Now  d’ye  tell  me  so  ? He’s  fond  of  a shanahas,  I 
see,  furriner  and  all  as  he  is.” 

Indeed,  thin  he’s  jist  that  same,  Lanty  ; he’s  mighty 
fond  intirely  of  say  stories,  and  likes  to  hear  tell  of  the 
^ Saldana,’  how  she  was  wracked  here  below,  and  the 
crew,  how  they  were  all  buried  in  one  grave  in  the  ould 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


29 


churchyard  in  Ramulla,  and  about  Captain  Pecnam^s 
ghost,  that  used  to  be  seen  on  moonlight  nights  dressed 
all  in  white  with  a goolden  sword  by  his  side  sittin  on 
the  Swilly  Rock.  And  thin  he^ll  be  sure  to  ask  me  some- 
thing about  Mr.  Lee  and  his  niece,  and  who  they  are,  and 
how  thej^  came  here,  and  how  long  since,  and  so  on,  and 
so  on,  till  Pm  a most  tired  of  him  myself  sometimes. 

Humph  ! Tired  ! repeated  Lanty  ; bedad,  thin  he 
must  run  you  mighty  hard.  Else,  for  may  I niver — 

Hould  yer  whist  now,^^  interrupted  the  old  woman  ; 
I don^t  want  any  iv  yer  side  wipes  ; and  she  pushed 
him  playfully  away  with  her  thin,  skeleton  hand. 

Sure  I didn^t  mane  the  laste  offence  in  life,^^  mut- 
tered Lanty,  leering  round  at  his  companion,  and  taking 
a smack  from  the  pipe  loud  enough  to  be  heard  at  the 
road  below;  ‘^no,  but  I was  only  jist  saying  that  if  the 
gentleman  tired  you  out  talkin,  why,  he  ought  to  be  proud 
iv  it,  for  after  talkin  six  covenanter  ministers,  besides  a 
dancin  master  and  two  tailors,  out  iv  yer  house  — 

Hould  yer  tongue  now,  I tell  ye,^^  exclaimed  Else ; 
hould  yer  tongue,  or  ITl  slap  yer  in  the  face.  Yer 
niver  aisy  but  whin  yer  at  some  divilmint.  So,  as  I was 
tellin  ye,  he  wanted  to  know  all  about  the  light-keeper 
here  and  his  niece,  and  the  wrack  of  the  Saldana,  though, 
bedad,  he  seems  to  know  himself  more  about  it  nor  me. 
Why  sure,  Lanty,  he  tells  me  that  .Mr.  Lee  had  a brother, 
or  cousin,  or  some  very  near  frind  lost  in  that  same  ship, 
for  he  niver  was  heerd  tell  of,  livin  or  dead,  since  the 
vessel  sailed  from  Bristol ; and  more  nor  that,  Lanty,  he 
was  a high  up  officer,  if  you  plaze,  and  a fine  darin  bould 
gentleman  to  boot.^^ 

Ha  ! see  that  now  ! Bedad,  and  it^s  only  what  I al- 
ways thought  myself  of  the  same  Mr.  Lee,  since  the  first 
day  I laid  my  eyes  on  him  ; for  he  has  the  look  of  a gen- 
tleman in  his  very  face,  even  if  he  is  only  a light-keeper; 
and  what’s  better  nor  all  that,  Else  Curley,  he  has  the 
feelins  of  a gentleman  in  his  heart.” 

Ha,  ha  — look  ! ” exclaimed  Else,  laying  one  hand 
suddenly  on  Lanty ’s  shoulder,  and  pointing  with  the 
3* 


30 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


stocking  in  the  other  to  the  angler  below;  ha,  ha  — 
he’s  in  a mighty  pucker,  poor  man.” 

''0,  the  bungler,  the  bungler!”  exclaimed  Lanty ; 
'"he’s  got  his  hooks  tangled  in  the  weeds  at  the  very 
first  cast ; look  how  he  pulls  I Why,  it’s  a sin  and  a 
shame  to  let  him  use  such  beautiful  tackling  in  that  lub- 
berly way.  But  whist ! see  I by  the  powers  iv  pewter, 
it’s  a trout  he  has,  and  a three  pounder  into  the  bargain 
— there  he  jumps  like  a salmon!  0,  meel-a-murther  ! 
did  iver  mortal  man  see  the  like  ! He’ll  smash  every- 
thing— bad  scran  to  him,  the  omedhawn,  why  don’t  he 
give  the  fish  fair  play  — he  pulls,  for  all  the  world,  as  if 
he’d  a grampus  on  a jack  line  ; ” and  the  speaker  grew 
so  indignant  that  he  threatened  to  run  down  and  snatch 
the  rod  from  the  stranger’s  hands  ; but  Else  Curley  coun- 
selled him  to  take  it  aisy,  and  interfere  in  nobody’s 
business  till  he  was  asked  ; if  the  trout  breaks  the 
man’s  gear,”  she  added,  ''  he  has  money  enough  to  buy 
more.” 

By  this  time  the  fish  had  run  out  the  greater  part  of 
the  line,  and  kept  backing  and  tugging  with  all  its  might, 
like  a fettered  partridge  making  a last  effort  to  escape 
on  the  approach  of  the  -snarer.  The  whole  strength  of 
the  trout  was  made  to  bear  on  the  casting  line  ; for  the 
rod,  instead  of  being  held  in  a vertical  position,  allowing 
its  supple  point  to  play  up  and  down  as  the  fish  plunged, 
was,  on  the  contrary,  grasped  in  both  hands  as  horizon- 
tally as  if  he  had  caught  a shark  with  a boat-hook,  and 
was  actually  dragging  it  ashore  by  main  strength. 

''The  man’s  castin  line,”  cried  Lanty,  if  he  has  any 
on  at  all,  must  be  made  of  fiddler’s  catgut,  or  it  never 
could  stand  that  usage.” 

The  trout,  after  thus  endeavoring  to  shake  itself  free 
of  the  hook,  now  dived,  and  making  a desperate  sheer, 
ran  out  the  line  apparently  to  its  last  turn  on  the  wheel ; 
and  Lanty  felt  full  sure  the  trout  had  broken  loose  at  last, 
and  carried  flies  and  casting  line  away  with  him  into  the 
deep.  But  he  was  mistaken  ; for  hardly  had  the  exhaust- 
ed fish  been  down  a moment,  when  he  rose  again,  and 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


31 


sputtered  on  the  surface  like  a wounded  water  hen.  At 
this  instant  an  object  came  suddenly  into  view  which 
gave  an  entirely  new  feature  to  the  scene.  A little  boat, 
carrying  a small,  light  sprit-sail  as  white  as  snow,  shot 
round  the  point,  and  passed  within  two  fathoms^  length 
of  the  angler  before  he  perceived  it. 

Hilloa  ! cried  Lanty  ; there  goes  Mary  Lee.  There 
she  is  in  the  stern  sheets,  handling  her  cockle-shell  like  a 
water  spirit.  And  there  goes  Drake,'  too,  sittin  in  the 
bows,  with  his  cold  black  nose  over  the  gun  wale. 

Old  Elsie  laid  by  her  knitting  and  wiped  her  bleared 
eyes  to  look  down  at  the  scene.  Musha,  thin,  may  I 
niver  do  harm  but  that^s  jist  the  darling  herself,  Lanty, 
she  muttered  ; there  she  is  in  her  blue  jacket  and  white 
straw  hat,  the  best  and  gentlest  girl  iver  sailed  on  Ely 
water. 

Hardly  had  Elsie  spoken,  and  raised  up  her  fleshless 
hands  to  support  her  pointed  chin,  that  she  might  gaze 
down  more  steadily  on  the  scene  below,  when  Drake,  mis- 
taking the  sputtering  fish  for  a wounded  bird,  sprang  from 
the  bows,  seized  it  by  the  back  before  his  mistress  could 
prevent  him,  and  then,  snapping  both  rod  and  line  at  a 
single  jerk,  turned  away  from  the  confounded  and  aston- 
ished sportsman,  and  swam  after  the  boat,  snuffing  the 
air  and  wagging  his  tail  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

Well  done,  Drake, cried  Lanty,  starting  up  from 
his  seat,  and  clapping  his  hands  in  such  glee  that  the 
pipe  fell  from  his  mouth  unobserved,  and  broke  in  pieces 
at  his  feet.  Well  done,  ould  dog!  well  done,  my  gal- 
lant ould  fellow  — that^s  it,  Drake  1 — that^s  just  what 
he  deserves,  the  blundering  gawkie,  to  abuse  such  a 
fish  in  that  way.^^ 

The  light  breeze  from  the  south-east  had  been  gaining  for 
the  last  half  hour  or  so,  and  now  blew  so  fresh  round  the 
point  that  the  little  boat  lay  down  almost  gunwale  under, 
and  swept  past,  before  her  fair  pilot  could  bring  her  with- 
in speaking  distance  of  the  stranger.  Once  she  tried  to 
jam  her  up  to  windward,  probably  with  the  intention  of 


32 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


apologizing  for  Drake^s  uncivil  behavior ; but  the  little 
craft  refused  to  obey^  and  then,  waving  her  hand,  she  let 
her  fall  off  towards  the  opposite  shore,  and  was  soon 
lost  sight  of  behind  the  point. 

All  this  took  place  in  much  less  time  than  we  have 
taken  to  describe  it,  the  boat  appearing  and  disappearing 
as  suddenly  as  a moving  picture  in  a panorama. 

The  bewildered  stranger  gazed  after  the  fair  occupant 
of  the  little  boat  as  long  as  she  remained  in  sight,  and 
then,  peering  stealthily  round  to  see  if  any  one  had  wit- 
nessed his  discomfiture,  disjointed  the  remainder  of  his 
fishing  rod,  and  throwing  it  carelessly  on  his  shoulder, 
walked  away  slowly  and  sadly  from  the  shore. 

There  he  goes,^^  said  Lanty,  buttoning  his  green 
jacket ; * ' there  he  goes,  sneaking  off'  like  a fox  from  a hen 
roost.  0,  that  he  may  niver  come  back,  I pray  ! Begorra, 
it^s  ducked  he  ought  to  be,  if  iver  he  has  the  assurance  to 
cast  aline  in  the  wather  again.  But  I must  be  off*  myself 
to  the  lighthouse,  and  coax  Mr.  Lee  for  a mallard  wing 
for  Uncle  Jerry. 

''  0,  ay  ! to  be  sure.  Uncle  Jerry ! there^s  no  one  like 
Uncle  Jerry.  thin  may  be  if  the  gentleman  youh*e  for 
ducking  in  the  lough  there  was  as  free  to  you  with  his 
purse  as  Uncle  Jerry,  heM  just  be  as  great  a favorite, 
every  bit.  But  it^s  an  ould  sayin  and  a true  one,  Lanty 
— Praise  the  fool  as  you  find  him.^^ 

Bon^t  say  that.  Else  Curley,^^  replied  Lanty,  laying 
his  hand  on  her  shoulder,  and  speaking  more  earnestly 
than  usual,  — don^t  say  that,  for  the  heavens  knows  I 
wouldn^t  give  one  kind  word  of  Uncle  Jerry^s  lips,  or  one 
kindly  feeling  of  his  ginerous  fine  ould  heart,  for  a mil- 
lion like  him.  And  listen  to  me.  Else  Curley,  for  Um 
going  to  tell  ye  a secret.  I know  that  man  off  an  on  for 
a month  and  more,  — not  that  I was  iver  much  in  his  com- 
pany ; but  I watched  him,  and  watched  him  too  for  a 
raisin  o^  my  own,  — and  I tell  you  plainly,  Else,  if  he 
opened  his  purse  to  me  ivery  day  in  the  year,  and  it  full 
o^  goold  guineas,  I cudn^t  feel  it  in  my  heart  to  touch  one 
o^  thim.^^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


33 


Arrah,  yon  cudn^t  now  ! responded  Else,  in  a half- 
incredulous,  half-jeering  tone.  ''  By  my  word,  it^s  mighty 
big  spoken  of  you,  Mr.  Hanlon.  thin  might  a body 
make  so  bould  as  to  ax  yer  raisins  ; faith,  they  must  be 
powerful  ones  intirely.^^ 

I have  no  particklar  raisins,^'  replied  Lanty  ; he 
niver  did  harm  to  me  nor  mine,  that  I know  of.  But  I 
don^t  like  him.  There^s  something  wrong  about  him,  and 
I feel  it  somehow  when  Fm  near  him  ; there^s  a dark 
spot  in  him  somewhere  that  the  bright  light  niver  reached 
yit,  Else.^^ 

Humph  ! ejaculated  the  old  woman,  looking  sharply 
at  her  companion  ; 3^ou  suspect  him  of  something  ? 

And  what  is  it,  Lanty  ? 

I can^t  tell  ; it^s  a mj^sthery  to  myself.  But  he  has 
that  in  his  eye  that^s  not  lucky.  What  brings  him  down 
here  so  often,  Fd  like  to  know  ? 

Why,  trout  fishin,  av  coorse  — what  else  ? replied 
his  companion. 

Pshaugh  ! nonsense,  Else  Curley  ; you  can’t  run 
' Donal  ’ on  me  that  way,  cute  and  all  as  ye  are.  That 
man  don’t  care  a brass  farthin  for  the  best  fishin  in  Don- 
egal, from  Onea  River  to  Malin  Head.  I see  it  in  his 
very  motions.  There’s  not  a dhrap  o’  sportman’s  blood 
in  his  body.” 

0,  no  ! not  a dhrap,  because  he  don’t  go  into  the 
doldrums,  like  Uncle  Jerry,  at  every  fin  he  sees  rising 
above  the  water.  Humph  ! pity  but  he  wud.” 

''The  fish  he’s  after  don’t  live  in  wather.  Else  Curley, 
and  you  know  it,”  said  Lanty,  laying  his  finger  on  the 
old  woman’s  shoulder,  and  whispering  the  words  into 
her  ear. 

" Me  ! ” 

" Ay,  in  troth,  jist  yourself.  Else,  and  sorra  much  iv  a 
parish  wondher  it  id  be  aither,  some  o’  these  days,  if  it 
turned  out  that  he  was  trying  to  buy  one  Else  Curley  o’ 
the  ‘ Cairn  ’ to  bait  his  hook  for  him  into  the  bargain.” 


34 


MAEY  LEE,  OE 


The  old  woman  endeavored  to  look  astonished  at  the 
accusation,  but  there  was  a faint  smile  in  the  corner  of 
her  mouth  she  could  not  entirely  suppress.  A stranger 
would  possibly  have  called  it  a contortion  of  the  lips  ; but 
Lanty  Hanlon  was  an  old  acquaintance,  and  knew  her 
better. 

You  needn^t  try  to  consale  it,  Else,^’  replied  Lanty, 
**  for  do  yer  best  you  cudn^t  consale  it  from  me.  1 know 
ye  too  well,  ould  woman.  There^s  a sacret  about  that 
man  and  the  Lees,  and  no  mortal  in  this  neighborhood 
knows  it  but  yerself.^^ 

A sacret  ! tut,  you^re  dhramin,^^  replied  Else,  turning 
away  and  laying  her  thumb  on  the  latch  of  the  door  ; a 
sacret,  indeed  ! arrah,  what  in  the  wide  world  put  that 
in  yer  head 
''  The  fairies. 

Indeed,  then,  Mr.  Hanlon,  one  id  think  ye  come  from 
that  same  respectable  stock  yerself,  ye  know  so  much 
more  nor  yer  neighbors, retorted  Else. 

Well,  good  evenin.  Else  Curley.  I must  go,  for  Eve 
business  to  do,  and  I find  my  company's  growin  trouble- 
some, besides.  But  take  a word  o^  warnin  before  I start. 
If  yer  bent  on  makin  money  out  iv  this  stranger,  and  if 
he’s  willin  to  spend  it  on  you  and  yer  sacrets,  well  and 
good  ; I’m  content.  But  listen  to  me.  Else.  Make  the 
laste  offer  to  thrifle  wid  a sartin  person  you  know  of,  — say 
but  a wrong  word,  — breathe  but  a single  bad  breath,  was 
it  as  low  as  the  very  weasel’s,  — and  my  hand  on  my  con- 
science, Else  Curley,  from  that  minute  I’ll  forget  that  we 
were  iver  acquaint,  and  my  vengeance  will  purshue  ye 
till  the  clay  covers  ye.” 

''  Why,  the  heavens  presarve  us,  Lanty  Hanlon ; what 

d’ye  mane  ? You  cudn’t  think  I’d  betray ” 

''  Think  ! ” repeated  Lanty  ; well,  no  matter  what  I 
think  ; I’ve  said  my  say ; ” and  again  wishing  her  fair 
thoughts  and  a pleasant  evening,  he  turned  from  the 
door. 

Ah,  the  ould  schamer,”  he  muttered  to  himself,  as 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


35 


he  jerked  his  blackthorn  under  his  arm,  and  tossed  his 
rabbit-skin  cap  on  the  side  of  his  head  once  more,  the 
ould  schamer,  sheM  betray  the  pope  if  the  bribe  was  big* 
enough.  And  still  she  loves  her  — av  coorse  she  does 

— and  small  blame  to  her  aither  ; for  there’s  no  Chris- 
tian crathur  iver  saw  God’s  good  light  that  shouldn’t 
love  her  ; and  after  all,  I b’lieve  in  my  conscience  she’s 
the  only  livin  thing,  barring  ould  Nannie,  she  iver  did 
love  before,  in  her  life.  But  love  her  or  hate  her,  there’s 
one  small  raisin  she  can’t  harm  her,  and  that’s  just  this 

— there’s  a sartain  Misther  Lanty  Hanlon,  iv  these  parts^ 
won’t  let  her  — even  set  in  case  she’d  be  wicked  enough 
to  thry  it.  So,  rattle  away,  Lanty  ; the  world’s  big 
enough  for  ye  — ay,  and  good  enough,  too,  ye  thief,  if 
ye  only  go  through  it  as  ye  ought,  with  a stout  heart 
and  an  honest  conscience.  Don’t  fear,  my  boy  ; je  have 
neither  house  or  land,  cow  or  calf,  penny  or  purse,  and 
who  cares  ! — ye  have  clothes  on  yer  back,  strength  in 
yer  arm,  a heart  without  spot  or  flaw  in  it,  and  wid  the 
blessin  o’  God  to  back  ye,  what  more  d’ye  want  ? So, 
dance  away,  Lanty,  and  as  ye  hop  through  the  figures, 
don’t  forget  to  keep  your  eye  on  the  fiddler  ; ” and 
thus  the  reckless,  light-hearted  fellow  tripped  along  the 
glen,  still  singing  the  old  ditty  as  he  went : — 

“ The  Sassanach  villains  — de’il  tare  them ! — 

They  stripped  us  as  bare  as  the  ‘ poles  ; ” 

But  there’s  one  thing  we  just  couldn’t  sp^re  them  — 

The  ‘ Kidug  ’ that  covers  our  souls. 

Right  fol  de  lol  ol,”  &c. 


36 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Lantxfs  Propensities,  — Weeks  introduces  himself  into  the 
Lighthouse.  — Finds  the  Keeper  engaged  shooting  Hol- 
land Hawks.  — Takes  a Crack  at  one  himself.  — As- 
sures the  Keeper  Yankee  Boys  can  hit  Swallows  with  a 
Rifle  Ball.  — Recommends  the  Importation  of  Yankee 
Lecturers  to  smarten  the  Irish  Nation. 

% 

It  wanted  still  two  hours  of  sunset,  when  Lantj  Hanlon 
left  the  lighthouse  with  the  mallard  wing  in  his  pocket  for 
Uncle  Jerry.  His  pace  was  now  more  hurried  and  pur- 
pose-like than  when  last  seen  wending  his  way  through 
the  dark  glens.  His  song  too  had  entirely  ceased,  and 
he  held  his  blackthorn  staff  no  longer  carelessly  under  his 
arm,  but  grasped  it  firmly  in  his  hand,  like  a traveller  re- 
solved to  let  no  grass  grow  under  his  feet  till  he  had 
accomplished  his  journey. 

On  passing  the  road  below  Else  Curley^s  cabin,  how- 
ever, he  looked  up  to  see  if  the  old  woman  was  in  sight, 
that  he  might  make  her  a sign  of  friendly  recognition  ; 
or  perhaps  it  was  a wholesome  dread  of  a second  uncere- 
monious visit  from  Nannie,  that  made  him  turn  his  eyes 
in  that  direction.  Be  that  as  it  may,  neither  Nannie  nor 
her  mistress  could  be  seen,  but  in  their  stead,  and  much 
to  Lanty’s  surprise,  appeared  the  tall  figure  of  the 
stranger,  issuing  from  the  door  of  the  little  mud  cabin, 
and  making  his  way  down  the  hill  in  the  direction  of  the 
lighthouse.  Lanty  stopped  suddenly,  not  well  knowing 
what  to  think  of  this.  He  had  seen  the  stranger,  a 
full  half  hour  before,  quitting  Lough  Ely,  and  setting 
off  towards  Crohan,  and  naturally  concluded  he  was  by 
that  time  far  on  his  way  home.  A moment’s  reflection, 
however,  convinced  him  that  the  man  must  have  hid 
himself  behind  some  rock  or  hillock,  and  waited  there  till 
he  conld  ventures  up  unobserved,  to  pay  his  usual  visit  to 
Else  Curley. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


37 


This  manoeuvring  was  by  no  means  satisfactory  to 
Lanty  ; on  the  contrary,  it  served  greatly  to  confirm  the 
bad  opinion  he  had  begun  to  entertain  of  his  purpose  in 
hovering  so  constantly  about  Araheera  Point.  Lanty 
Hanlon  was  not  a man  remarkable  for  an  extra  amount 
of  shrewdness  — it  was  the  very  reverse  with  him ; 
shrewdness  was  not  an  ingredient  to  mix  with  the  mer- 
cury of  his  nature  at  all.  But  the  stranger^s  conduct 
was  so  palpably  suspicious,  that  he  could  not  for  an 
instant  resist  the  idea  of  some  plot  between  him  and  Else 
Curley.  In  the  first  place,  the  man  had  been  only  two 
days  in  the  country  when  he  found  the  old  woman  out 
— nay,  went  as  straight  to  her  cabin  as  if  he  had  been 
sent  there  on  a message,  and  since  that  time  visited  her 
every  day,  remaining  with  her  often  whole  hours  togeth- 
er. As  for  his  pretext  of  fishing,  it  was  the  flimsiest  in 
the  world  ; for  no  one  who  saw  him  cast  a line  in  water 
could  ever  imagine  he  cared  a gray  groat  for  the  pleasure 
it  afibrded.  Then  his  close  and  frequent  inquiries  about 
the  Lees,  and  his  knowledge  of  certain  private  affairs  of 
the  family,  already  communicated  to  Else  Curley,  — these, 
we  say,  put  together,  were  clearly  suggestive  of  some 
secret  purpose  on  his  part,  and  quite  enough  to  raise 
suspicion  in  minds  far  less  constructive  than  Lanty  Han- 
lon’s. Besides,  Mr.  Lee  was  himself  a stranger  in  the 
place,  having  resided  but  eighteen  months  at  the  light- 
house, and  during  that  time  had  seen  but  little  company. 
The  peasantry  of  the  neighborhood,  indeed,  looked  upon 
him  at  first  as  one  who  disliked  society,  preferring  a quiet 
life  at  home  to  making  and  receiving  visits.  Hence 
they  seldom  troubled  him,  except  on  matters  of  business, 
and  then  only  as  little  as  possible.  To  be  sure,  the  offi- 
cers of  the  ballast  board  called  on  him  three  or  four  times 
a year,  but  that  was  on  their  tours  of  inspection  round 
the  coast;  and  Father  John  was  seen,  too,  sometimes 
trotting  down  in  that  direction,  with  his  saddle-bags  bob- 
bing behind  him  ; but  Mr.  Lee  was  a Catholic,  and  Fa- 
ther John  was  the  priest  of  the  parish.  All  this  was 
very  natural.  But  it  soon  began  to  be  whispered  about 
4 


38 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


that  Captain  Petersham,  of  Castle  Gregory,  was  seen 
occasionally  stepping  ashore  at  the  point  when  out  yacht- 
ing on  Lough  Swilly,  and,  what  looked  stranger  still, 
taking  Miss  Lee  with  him  up  the  lough  to  visit  his  sister. 
This  latter  circumstance  led  the  good  people,  by  degrees, 
to  regard  Mr.  Lee  as  somewhat  above  the  rank  of  a com- 
mon light-keeper,  for  Tom  Petersham  was  the  crack  gen- 
tleman of  the  county,  and  (though  somewhat  reduced 
himself)  always  felt  a peg  or  two  above  associating  with 
the  squires  and  newly-fledged  baronets  of  the  district. 
So  they  concluded,  after  various  speculations  and  gossip 
on  the  matter,  that  Mr.  Lee  must  have  been  once  a real 
gentleman,  whom  reverse  of  fortune  had  obliged  to  ac- 
cept his  present  humble  situation  as  a last  resource. 
And  so  they  continued  ever  after  to  regard  him,  saluting 
him  with  every  mark  of  respect  when  they  happened  to 
meet  about  the  lighthouse,  and  never  presuming  to  in- 
trude on  his  privacy  except  to  settle  their  little  business 
transactions,  or  when  he  chose  to  employ  their  services 
about  the  lighthouse  yard. 

Now,  Lanty  Hanlon  saw  all  this  long  ago,  and  regu- 
lated his  intercourse  with  the  family  to  suit  the  case 
precisely.  He  asked  no  questions,  made  no  apologies, 
came  and  went  just  as  he  pleased  ; and  yet,  as  he  often 
was  heard  to  say  himself,  knew  as  little  about  Mr.  Lee, 
or  his  private  affairs,  as  the  blackest  stranger  in  the 
kingdom  ! 

Young,  active,  and  fond  of  recreation,  Lanty  always 
found  Araheera  Head  a capital  spot  to  indulge  in  his 
favorite  pastime  of  gunning  and  fishing,  and  shortly  after 
Mr.  Lee^s  arrival  found  that  gentleman  quite  as  fond  of 
the  sport  as  himself.  And  thus  an  intimacy  grew  up 
between  them  all  at  once  — an  intimacy,  by  the  way, 
which  each  felt  it  his  interest  to  cultivate  ; Lanty  for  the 
sake  of  the  light-keeper^s  influence  with  the  neighboring 
gentry,  in  whose  power  he  often  unfortunately  found  him- 
self, and  the  light-keeper  for  the  sake  of  Lanty^s  skill  as 
a sportsman,  in  his  frequent  excursions  on  Lough  Swilly. 
Besides  Lanty  kept  a pair  of  black  greyhounds,  the  best 


THE  YANKEE  IN  ICELAND. 


39 


ever  ran  on  four  feet,  and  the  terror  of  all  the  game-keepers 
in  the  three  baronies.  These  enabled  him  to  supply  his 
friend  with  hare’s  ear  ” for  his  flies,  and  if  the  truth  must 
be  told,  with  haunches  for  his  table  too,  occasionally,  with- 
out troubling  his  conscience  greatly  about  the  infraction  of 
the  game  laws.  Then  he  was  moreover  an  excellent  shot 
with  either  rifle  or  birding  piece,  and  could  bag  a brace  of 
grouse  or  wild  ducks  on  sea-side  or  mountain  as  prettily 
as  the  best  landlord’s  son  in  the  parish  — always  remem- 
bering to  reserve  the  wings  for  Mr.  Lee’s  and  Uncle 
Jerry’s  fly  hooks.  Sometimes,  too,  the  light-keeper 
would  find  a white  trout  for  breakfast  of  a morning,  or  a 
salmon  for  dinner,  without  any  distinct  recollection  of 
having  caught  them  himself,  or  bought  them  from  any 
particular  fish-hawker  of  the  neighborhood.  For  reasons 
such  as  these,  and  others  quite  unnecessary  to  mention, 
Lanty  soon  became  a constant  and  welcome  visitor  at 
Araheera  Head,  and  indeed  finally  grew  to  be  so  special 
a favorite  with  the  light-keeper  that  he  could  hardly  pre- 
vail on  himself  to  take  his  boat  or  his  gun  without  Lanty 
at  his  elbow.  He  even  ofiered  him  a salary  larger  than 
his  limited  means  could  well  aflbrd,  to  live  with  him 
altogether  ; but  Lanty  invariably  refused,  preferring  a 
free  foot  on  the  hill-side  after  his  dogs,  and  a ramble  on 
the  sea-shore  with  his  rifle,  to  all  the  inducements  he 
could  offer.  These  rambles,  however,  often  brought  him 
into  trouble  ; but  if  they  did,  he  always  depended  on  Mr. 
Lee  to  get  him  out  of  it.  On  such  occasions  the  honest 
light-keeper  would  bluster  and  swear  as  stoutly  as  a 
Dutch  burgomaster  never  to  speak  another  word  in  the 
villain’s  behalf,  should  it  save  him  from  the  gallows,  and 
often  even  went  so  far  as  to  order  the  members  of  his 
family  never  to  let  the  scoundrel  inside  his  doors  again  ; 
but  somehow  or  other  these  resolutions  never  held  out 
— all  his  indignation  seemed  to  vanish  in  his  sleep  ; and 
before  the  sun  got  up  on  the  following  morning,  he  was 
sure  to  despatch  a note  to  Tom  Petersham,  or  some  other 
gentleman  of  the  neighborhood,  to  beg  their  interest  in 
the  unfortunate  fellow’s  behalf.  Lanty,  in  fact,  was 


40 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


never  out  of  scrapes  for  a week  together  since  Mr.  Lee 
first  saw  him.  He  had  either  fallen  foul  of  a bailiff,  or 
beaten  a policeman,  or  cudgelled  a game-keeper,  or 
spread  a salmon  by  torchlight,  or  stole  a game-cock,  or 
— something  was  always  sure  to  be  wrong,  whenever 
he  was  absent  three  days  at  a time  from  Araheera  light- 
house. 

Intimate,  however,  as  Lanty  was  with  the  family,  he 
knew  nothing  of  their  history  save  what  he  picked  up 
from  an  odd  word  dropped  now  and  then  between  Mary 
Lee  and  the  light-keeper,  or  between  himself  and  old 
Koger  O^Shaughnessy,  when  they  went  up  the  tower  of 
an  evening  to  chat  and  trim  the  lamps  together.  What 
he  learned  from  the  latter,  however,  was  never  very  satis- 
factory, for  Koger  considered  himself  too  respectable  and 
important  a personage  to  hold  much  confidential  inter- 
course with  a light-headed  scatterbrain  like  Lanty  Hanlon. 
But  whilst  Roger  said  little  of  the  family  connections  di- 
rectly, he  indulged  frequently  in  little  sneers  at  the  pre- 
tensiolis  of  the  Donegal  aristocracy,  wondered  where  in  the 
world  they  found  the  arms  on  their  carriage  panels,  and 
if  they  didn^t  one  and  all  inherit  their  gentle  blood  from 

Shemus  Sallagh  or  Oliver  Cromwell.  This  contempt- 
uous way  of  speaking  about  his  neighbors  was  plain 
enough,  and  Lanty  understood  it.  The  nobler  families  of 
the  south  was  a subject  on  which  Roger  loved  very  much 
to  descant  in  a sort  of  soliloquial  tone,  when  he  sat 
down  of  a summer^s  evening  in  the  lantern  to  burnish  up 
the  reflectors,  with  Lanty  at  his  side.  Many  a long  sigh 
would  he  draw,  talking  over  the  olden  times,  when  real 
lords  and  ladies  used  to  throng  the  halls  of  a certain  cas- 
tle in  the  south  (surrounded  by  their  servants  in  splendid 
liveries),  to  drink  the  choicest  wines  or  dance  to  the 
music  of  the  old  family  harp  ; and  if  his  companion  ven- 
tured to  inquire  the  name  of  the  castle  or  of  its  owner,  lit- 
tle information  would  he  get  from  Roger  O^Shaughnessy. 
Still,  studiously  averse  as  Roger  was  to  the  revelation  of 
family  secrets,  he  could  not  hide  from  his  quick-witted 
companion  the  conclusion  warranted  by  his  frequent 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


41 


though  indirect  allusions.  Besides,  Eoger  always  wore 
a curious  old-fashioned  coat  when  serving  dinner,  which 
contributed  more,  perhaps,  than  anything  else  to  enlight- 
en Lanty  as  to  the  antecedents  of  the  family.  This  coat 
was  once  a bottle-green  of  fine  texture,  as  might  be  seen 
by  those  shady  little  corners  here  and  there,  where  the 
sun  had  not  been  able  to  peep,  nor  the  wear  and  tear  of 
half  a century  entirely  to  reach.  With  a few  redeeming 
spots  like  these,  however,  excepted,  the  rest  of  the  gar- 
ment was  faded,  threadbare,  and  polished  as  the  cuff  of  a 
sailor^s  jacket.  The  high,'  stiff  collar,  the  buff  facings, 
and  the  long  tails  would  have  plainly  showed  it  had  once 
been  livery,  even  if  the  two  lonely  gilt  buttons  on  the 
high  waist  behind,  bearing  the  family  crest,  had  been  lost 
and  gone  with  the  rest  of  the  brotherhood.  Every  day, 
before  the  little  bell  rang  for  dinner,  did  Roger  divest 
himself  of  his  working-dress,  brush  over  the  few  white 
hairs  that  still  remained  to  cover  his  polished  scalp,  and 
then  put  on  his  bottle-green  livery  with  as  much  care  and 
tenderness  as  if  it  had  been  wove  of  spider^s  web.  Poor 
Eoger  I many  a scold  he  got  from  Mr.  Lee  for  keeping 
up  his  ridiculous  old  notions,  and  many  a laugh  had  Mr. 
Petersham  at  his  profound  salutations,  when  he  came  to 
visit  the  family  ; but  laugh  or  scold,  it  was  the  same  to 
Eoger : on  he  went,  practising  the  same  old  habits,  de- 
spite every  remonstrance. 

This  obscurity  in  which  the  history  of  the  Lees  was 
involved,  coupled  with  the  mysterious  conduct  of  the 
stranger,  led  Lanty  Hanlon  to  suspect  some  deep  plot- 
ting between  him  and  Else  Curley.  As  for  the  latter,  he 
had  little  fear  she  would  take  part  in  anything  directly 
tending  to  bring  misfortune  on  the  light-keeper  or  his 
family ; but  still  she  might  meddle  so  far  with  the  dan- 
ger as  to  bring  them  into  trouble  without  actually  intend- 
ing it,  — and  all  for  the  sake  of  gold,  to  obtain  which  he 
supposed  the  miserly  old  creature  was  prepared  to  run 
any  risk,  even  that  of  her  salvation.  Hooh  ! he  mut- 
tered, for  that  matther,  sheM  go  to  the  deMPs  door  and 
singe  her  ould  beard  at  the  key-hole  to  earn  a sixpence  ; 

4 * 


42 


MAE.Y  LEE,  OR 


and  as  for  you,  my  augeuaugh,^’  he  continued,  gazing 
after  the  retreating  figure  of  the  stranger,  yeVe  the 
cut  of  a schamer  about  ye,  any  way.  Be  all  that^s  bad, 
I niver  saw  ye  with  a fishin  rod  in  yer  hand  yet,  but  ye 
put  me  in  mind  iv  one  i^  them,  big  long-nosed  cranes 
down  there  standing  up  to  their  knees  in  the  wather, 
watchin  round  for  the  little  innocent  shiners  to  make  a 
pounce  on  them.  F^eth,  may  be  iFs  some  sworn  inemy 
i'  the  family  ye  are,  keeping  their  thrail  all  the  time  since 
they  left  the  south  ; or  may  be  it^s  a sheriff's  ojfficer  yeM 
be  in  purshuit  of  an  ould  debt ; or,  by  jaminy  king,  who 
knows  but  yer  some  discarded  sweetheart  sneakin  afther 
Mary  Lee.  If  yer  that,  IM  advise  ye  lave  the  country 
or  buy  yer  coffin.  But  whatsomever  ye  are,  yer  a chate 
any  way,  that^s  sartin  ; and  so,  may  sweet  bad  luck  at- 
tind  ye,  achushla,  and  that’s  my  prayer  for  ye,  night  and 
mornin,  sleepin  and  wakin  ; ” and  Lanty  shook  his  fist  at 
the  stranger  as  he  disappeared  over  the  brow  of  the  hill ; 

and  since  ould  Else  has  tuck  ye  in  tow,”  he  concluded, 
spitting  on  his  stick  and  again  heading  for  the  mountains, 
I’ll  just  stand  by  and  look  on  ; but  one  thing  I’ll  be 
bould  to  tell  ye  both,  cute  and  all  as  ye  are,  that  by  the 
powers  o’  pewther  ye’ll  have  to  rise  early  and  thravel  fast 
if  ye  hope  to  get  the  blind  side  if  one  Lanty  Hanlon.” 

Leaving*  Lanty  to  pursue  his  journey  across  Benraven, 
we  return  to  the  stranger.  After  examining  for  some 
time  the  structure  of  the  narrow  iron  bridge  over  the 
chasm  called  the  ^'Devil’s  Gulch,”  he  raised  the  latch  of 
the  gate,  and  finding  it  unlocked,  pushed  it  open.  The 
light-keeper’s  lodge,  facing  him  directly  as  he  entered, 
was  a long  low  cottage  fronting  full  on  the  sea.  The 
light  tower  rose  up  close  by  its  side,  with  its  great 
round  lantern  on  top,  to  the  height  of  a hundred  and 
fifty  feet  from  the  rock,  as  smooth  and  white  as  marble. 
The  doors,  walls,  and  window  sashes  of  the  lodge  were 
also  white  and  clean  as  human  hands  could  make  them  ; 
even  the  black  stone  steps  by  which  he  ascended  to  the 
hall  door  shone  bright  and  spotless  as"^ polished  ebony. 
The  place,  however,  notwithstanding  the  care  and  trou- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


43 


ble  it  cost,  looked  still  and  deserted.  For  full  ten  min- 
utes the  stranger  stood  in  front  of  the  house  gazing 
round  him,  and  yet  no  one  came  to  bid  him  welcome.  A 
little  white  bantam  on  the  grass  plot  before  the  door, 
scraping  up  the  greensward  and  calling  his  family  round 
him,  was  the  only  sign  of  life  to  be  seen.  In  such  a re- 
mote spot  ho  naturally  hoped  the  presence  of  a stranger 
in  his  garb  would  draw  some  one  from  the  house  ; but  he 
was  mistaken.  At  length,  tired  of  waiting,  he  advanced 
to  the  door  and  knocked  ; still  there  was  no  answer  : he 
knocked  again,  and  yet  no  one  came.  Then  turning  the 
handle  and  opening  the  door,  he  stepped  over  the  thresh- 
old, and  found  himself  all  at  once  in  a long  passage  or 
entrance  hall.  On  either  side  of  this  hall  hung  several 
spears  and  fowling  pieces,  here  and  there,  fishing  rods 
resting  in  brass  sockets  against  the  wall,  and  suspended 
from  the  ceiling,  half  a dozen  or  more  reels  of  jack  lines, 
with  hooks  and  leads  attached,  ready  for  use.  It  was 
evident  from  their  superior  quality,  and  the  excellent 
condition  in  which  they  were  kept,  these  articles  were 
used  more  for  amusement  than  profit.  Beyond,  how- 
ever, and  near  the  opposite  extremity  of  the  passage, 
hung  two  light  oars  of  beautiful  finish,  and  close  beside 
them  a small  sail  of  Russia  duck,  with  its  little  sheet 
coiled  carefully  round  it,  and  if  oi]o  might  judge  from  its 
appearance,  but  recently  used.  The  stranger  seemed  to 
notice  this  last-mentioned  article  with  special  interest ; 
and  the  cold  smile  that  overspread  his  long  face  as  ho 
looked  at  it  plainly  showed  he  knew  well  by  whose  del- 
icate fingers  it  was  handled  last.  Proceeding  along  the 
hall  like  a connoisseur  in  a picture  gallery,  he  came  at 
last  to  an  open  door  opening  into  a spacious  parlor, 
and  entering  without  further  ceremony,  sat  down  on  the 
first  chair  he  saw,  and  carelessly  throwing  up  his  feet 
on  the  seat  of  another,  began  to  gaze  about  him,  like 
a man  quite  resolved  to  await  the  coming  of  some  one, 
should  he  wait  till  morning. 

About  this  apartment,  in  which  the  stranger  now 
found  himself  seated  all  alone,  there  was  a general  air 


44 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


of  comfort  and  taste,  which  at  once  suggested  the  idea 
of  a lady  mistress  far  above  what  he  might  expect  to 
find  at  a light-keeper^s  lodge,  and  especially  at  so  re- 
mote a point  as  Araheera  Head.  Nevertheless,  though 
the  room  looked  comfortable,  and  everything  arranged 
in  excellent  taste,  there  was  still  nothing  in  it  either 
new  or  fashionable.  Massive  picture  frames  with  grim 
looking  faces  in  the  background  hung  here  and  there 
round  the  apartment ; but  their  rich  gilding  was  gone, 
and  their  edges,  stripped  and  black,  made  sad  contrast 
with  the  newly-painted  walls.  The  harpsichord  in  the 
corner  had  lost  its  silver  handles,  by  which  in  olden 
times  it  was  so  often  drawn  out  into  the  merry  circle, 
and  the  ancient  clock  opposite,  now  silent  as  a tomb- 
stone, glared  over  at  its  once  light-hearted  companion 
with  a melancholy  expression  of  countenance.  They 
had,  doubtless,  been  friends  together  for  many  a year, 
and  in  their  early  days  had  oft  conversed  pleasantly 
from  opposite  corners  — each  after  his  own  fashion. 
But  age,  alas ! had  now  left  his  mark  on  both.  The 
clock^s  open,  good-natured  face  was  bleared  and  wrin- 
kled, so  much  so,  indeed,  that  its  early  associates  could 
scarcely  have  recognized  it ; and  the  harpsichord’s  once 
burnished  case  had  lost  all  its  polish,  and  its  edges  were 
stripped  and  lean,  like  the  elbows  of  an  old  coat.  Still, 
though  both  were  broken  down  and  somewhat  shabby, 
they  were  clean  and  decent,  like  old  gentlemen  who  had 
seen  better  days.  And  there,  too,  near  the  fireplace, 
was  the  high-backed  sofa  with  its  heavily-carved  feet 
and  double  rows  of  brass  nails  along  the  edges.  But 
conspicuous  above  all  appeared  the  old  family  Bible  lying 
in  state  upon  the  centre  table,  under  its  vellum  cover 
and  iron  clasps.  Everything  in  the  room  spoke  elo- 
quently of  the  past,  for  everything  looked  ancient  and 
venerable,  even  to  the  bird  cage  over  the  window, 
where  the  gray  linnet  sat  dozing  with  his  head  under 
his  wing. 

That  apartment,  dear  reader,  was  an  epitome  of  the 
history  of  Ireland,  and  might  have  furnished  materials 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


45 


for  a finer  allegorical  picture  than  ever  Claude  Lorraine 
drew  — her  heroes  without  a name  or  monument  save 
those  poor  rotting  shreds  of  canvas  — the  fire  of  her 
mu«ic  dying  out  day  by  day,  nay  — alas  that  we  should 
say  it ! — almost  as  cold  and  dead  as  the  blackened  em- 
bers on  her  desolate  shrines  — her  once  brave  and  stal- 
wart sons  now  wrapping  their  emaciated  limbs  in  their 
tattered  garments  and  resigning  themselves,  without  a 
struggle,  to  serfdom  and  the  grave.  Had  the  author  of 
the  Giaour, who  could  see  even  in  the  fair  but  lifeless 
form  of  woman  the  picture  of  Greece,  but  living  Greece 
no  more,^^  — had  he  lived  to  sit  there  and  gaze  around 
him,  how  much  more  sublime  the  inspiration  he  had  drawn 
from  those  sad,  crumbling  relics  ! Yes,  the  nation  was 
still  living,  but  all  her  glories,  save  the  glory  of  her  faith, 
had  departed. 

But  the  stranger^s  heart  was  not  one  of  that  mould. 
On  the  contrary,  he  scanned  every  article  of  furniture  in 
the  room  with  a cold,  prying  curiosity,  that  accorded  ill 
with  the  fashionable  sporting  dress  he  wore,  and  having 
at  last  completed  his  survey,  drew  his  chair  to  the  centre 
table,  and  opened  the  sacred  volume. 

Had  he  been  a lover  of  old  books,  he  might  have  paused 
to  examine  the  title  page  before  he  proceeded  farther,  and 
the  curiously  illuminated  letters  it  exhibited,  but  especially 
an  ancient  and  copious  note  in  the  margin,  purporting  to 
show  that  the  book  was  printed  at  Madrid  in  the  year 
146L  by  a native  of  Mentz,  at  royal  request  — a fact 
which  might  have  greatly  surprised  those  French  and 
German  litterateurs  who  claim  for  Louis  XIY.  and  Fred- 
eric II.  the  honor  of  having  been  the  only  patrons  of  the 
art  before  that  period.  But  the  gentleman  was  either 
not  of  that  class,  or  ignorant  of  the  Latin  tongue,  in  which 
it  was  printed,  for  he  ran  his  eye  hastily  over  the  page, 
without  seeming  to  notice  either  date  or  language. 

Without  pausing  a moment,  he  turned  over  leaf  after 
leaf,  glancing  merely  at  the  top  and  bottom  of  the  pages, 
and  evidently  in  search  of  something  he  understood  was 
to  be  found  there.  He  spent  some  five  or  six  minutes 


46 


MARY  LEE,  OR, 


in  this  search;  and  at  last,  having  discovered  what  he 
sought,  drew  from  his  breast  pocket  a small  book  of 
tablets,  copied  what  items  he  thought  necessary,  and  then, 
hastily  closing  the  Bible,  (stealthily  watching  the  doors 
of  the  apartment  all  the  while,)  clasped  it  as  before. 

It  happened  in  replacing  the  book  he  dropped  some- 
thing on  the  floor,  and  instantly  picking  it  up,  found  it  to 
be  a silver  beaded  rosary,  with  a gold  crucifix  attached, 
and  of  exquisite  workmanship.  The  image  was  of  the 
purest  gold,  the  nails  in  the  hands  and  feet  were  diamonds 
of  great  brilliancy,  and  the  cross,  on  which  the  figure 
hung,  ivory  inlaid  with  some  precious  metal,  and  bordered 
with  small  but  costly  pearls.  It  was  evidently  the  relic 
of  some  pious  ancestor,  for  the  beads  were  much  worn, 
and  the  edges  of  the  cross  had  lost  their  original  sharp- 
ness, and  grown  round  and  smooth  from  the  wear  and 
tear  of  years.  It  was  curious  to  see  how  the  stranger 
smiled  as  he  held  up  the  sacred  trinket  between  his 
finger  and  thumb.  A child  could  have  read  in  his  coun- 
tenance how  little  he  respected  either  the  image  or  the 
reality  — the  cross  or  the  crucified.  Whilst  engaged, 
however,  in  this  contemptuous  inspection  of  the  venera- 
ble and  precious  relic,  — the  sneer  on  his  face  growing 
deeper  as  he  gazed,  — he  was  startled  by  a shadow  sud- 
denly darkening  the  windovf,  and  turning  to  see  what  it 
was,  beheld  the  same  countenance  which  smiled  on  him 
from  the  stern  of  the  little  boat  an  hour  before,  peeping 
through  the  glass.  The  face  was  so  close  to  the  window 
that  the  stranger  might  have  seen,  from  its  peculiar  ex- 
pression, he  had  been  mistaken  for  some  familiar  friend, 
whose  visit  had  been  expected.  The  side  light  troubled 
her  so  much  at  first  that  she  could  see  nothing  distinctly 
in  the  room,  and  raising  both  hands  to  shade  it  off‘,  hap- 
pened to  throw  back  the  broad-brimmed  hat  she  wore, 
and  thus  revealed  in  full  view  to  the  stranger,  now  ad- 
vanced within  arm^s  length  of  the  window,  a countenance 
of  extraordinary  beauty.  But  there  was  little  leisure  left 
him  to  gaze  upon  it  — for  in  another  second  the  laughing 
girl  had  discovered  her  mistake,  and  startled  by  the  close 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


47 


proximity  of  a man  so  utterly  unknown  to  her,  and  trem- 
bling with  shame  and  confusion  at  her  apparent  levity, 
bounded  back  as  if  a spectre  had  confronted  her,  and  flew 
away  from  the  window  like  an  affrighted  bird. 

The  stranger  called  to  her  to  stop  and  listen  to  his 
apology  ; he  knocked  on  the  glass,  and  even  attempted 
to  raise  the  sash  and  follow  her ; but  all  was  in  vain  : 
away  she  ran  over  the  green  lawn,  her  tresses  streaming 
back  on  the  gentle  breeze,  and  disappeared  over  the  edge 
of  the  precipice.  For  an  instant  the  disappointed  sports- 
man stood  spell-bound,  hardly  able  to  tell  whether  the 
form  was  a vision  or  a reality.  And  no  wonder.  Her 
figure  so  light  and  airy,  her  extreme  grace  of  motion 
even  in  the  confusion  and  hurry  of  her  flight,  and  the 
exquisite  beauty  of  her  modest  face,  might  well  indeed 
have  raised  such  an  illusion  in  minds  far  more  philosophic 
than  the  stranger^s. 

And  now  again  all  was  still  as  before  ; not  a sound 
was  to  be  heard  but  the  sullen  break  of  the  sluggish 
wave  against  the  rocks,  or  the  occasional  call  of  the  little 
proud  bantam  still  scraping  on  the  green. 

The  sun  had  sunk  by  this  time  within  an  hour  of  his 
setting,  and  crowned  the  far-off  summit  of  Benraven  with 
bis  golden  light.  The  sky  was  cloudless,  and  the  air  as 
balmy  as  the  zephyrs  that  play  round  the  base  of  the 
Himalayas  and  fan  the  banks  of  the  ancient  Hydaspes. 
Stealing  out  from  under  the  shadows  of  the  island  ap- 
peared the  white  sails  of  the  coasting  vessels,  with  scarce 
wind  enough  to  give  them  motion,  — so  calm  had  it 
grown  for  the  last  hour  ; and  away  beyond  them,  in  the 
west,  rose  the  dark  form  of  the  Horn,  round  whose  top 
the  wings  of  countless  sea  birds  might  be  seen  wheeling 
and  glinting  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  The  scene 
was  as  grand  and  picturesque  as  one  might  care  to  look 
upon,  and  yet  it  seemed  to  awaken  but  little  interest  in 
the  stranger.  Indeed,  the  sullen  look  of  disappointment 
on  his  face,  as  he  gazed  through  the  window  on  the 
world  without,  showed  but  slight  relish  for  the  poetry  of 
nature.  At  last,  turning  away  abruptly  from  the  case- 


48 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


merit  when  he  saw  there  was  no  likelihood  of  the  young 
lady  returning,  he  retraced  his  steps  to  the  hall  door,  and 
was  just  about  to  follow  the  visionary  form  to  the  edge 
of  the  rock,  when,  to  his  great  relief,  he  heard  the  sharp 
crack  of  a rifle,  within  twenty  paces  of  where  he  stood. 
Looking  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  he  saw  smoke 
curling  slowly  up  from'  the  sea ; then  a water  spaniel 
sprang  on  the  bank,  and  began  to  shake  the  brine  from 
his  dripping  sides ; and  finally,  a man  in  a pea  jacket, 
with  his  pantaloons  rolled  up  over  the  tops  of  his  boots, 
and  a gun  in  his  hand,  suddenly  made  his  appearance, 
lie  was  apparently  about  fifty  years  of  age,  stout  and 
hearty  looking,  and  carried  in  his  face,  as  he  approached 
the  stranger,  a look  of  welcome  which  it  was  impossible 
for  a moment  to  mistake. 

Good  evening,  sir,^^  said  he,  touching  his  hat  to  his 
visitor,  hardly  able  to  utter  the  words,  so  exhausted  was 
he  in  climbing  up  the  rock. 

The  stranger  slowly  introduced  his  arms  under  his 
coat  tails,  and  made  a grave  and  respectful  inclination 
of  his  head. 

Sorry  you  found  no  one  in  the  house  to  bid  you 
welcome, said  the  stout  gentleman,  wiping  the  perspira- 
tion from  his  face. 

Eayther  think  the  apology  should  come  the  other 
way,^^  replied  the  stranger,  drawling  out  his  words. 

0,  don^t  mind  that,  sir  ; when  you  found  nobody  in 
the  house,  you  did  perfectly  right  to  make  yourself  as 
much  at  home  as  possible. 

Mr  Lee,  I presume  — the  gentleman  here  in  charge? 

The  same,  sir,  and  quite  at  your  service  — that  is, 
as  soon  as  I can  manage  to  catch  breath  again.  Heigh-ho  ! 
By  George,  I havenT  gone  through  as  much  these  ten 
years  before.  That  confounded  Holland  hawk  has  the 
nine  lives  of  a cat  — and  — and  I verily  believe  a few 
to  spare  besides.  Pheugh  ! heugh  ! 

Been  gunning,  I perceive. 

Yes  ; fired  fourteen  balls  — nine  of  them  clean  into 
his  body,  and  there  he  is,  yet,  sound  as  ever.’^ 


THE  YANKEE  EN  IRELAND. 


49 


Well,  now,  that^s  rayther  uncommon  — ain^t  it?’^ 
said  the  stranger,  without  moving  an  inch  from  his  po- 
sition ; should  think  one  was  enough/' 

''  The  bird's  not  natural,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Lee  ; 
''that's  the  best  explanation  I can  give." 

" Just  so,"  said  the  stranger,  nodding  a stinted  assent 
— " not  natural." 

" Besides,"  added  Mr.  Lee,  "though  he  looks  large  in 
the  water,  the  fellow  is  really  as  light  as  a feather.  I 
believe  in  my  soul,  sir,  you  can  no  more  pierce  that  bird 
with  a ball  than  you  can  a piece  of  floating  corkwood." 

" Can't,  eh  ? " 

" No,  sir,  it's  impossible.  I'm  living  here  eighteen 
months,  or  thereabouts,  and  during  that  time  I can  safely 
say  I wasted  more  powder  on  him  than  would  blow  up 
the  tower." 

" Well,  look  here,  why  not  snare  him  ? " 

" Snare  him  ! " 

" Why,  yes,  trap  him  by  night,  since  you  can't  shoot 
him  by  day." 

" 0,  tut,  tut!  no,  sir,  the  bird's  game.  Moreover, 
you  might  as  well  try  to  snare  a fox  in  a market 
place." 

" Well,  take  him  flying,  and  meet  him  with  the  ball," 
said  the  stranger,  now  thrusting  his  hands  deep  into  his 
breeches  pockets,  and  hitching  up  his  cap  behind  with 
the  collar  of  his  coat ; " seen  swallows  killed  that 

way." 

" What,  swallows  with  a ball  ? " 

"Yes,  sir  ; boys  can  do  it  in  the  section  of  the  country 
I was  raised  in." 

The  light-keeper  turned  a sharp,  searching  eye  on  the 
stranger,  and  scanned  him  from  head  to  foot  without 
saying  a syllable  in  reply.  The  last  word  sounded  odd 
to  his  ear.  In  fact,  it  suggested  a sort  of  vegetable 
idea,  and  the  figure  of  the  man  who  uttered  it  helped 
to  give  that  idea,  ridiculous  as  it  was,  something  of  a 
specific  form.  Or,  rather,  his  tall,  lithe  figure,  freckled 
face,  and  long,  straight,  sandy  hair,  made  up  a parsnip 
5 


60 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


kind  of  personality  that  tickled  the  light-keeper^s  fancy 
very  much,  and  made  him  laugh. 

Well/^  said  the  stranger,  mistaking  the  laugh,  it 
requires  considerable  experience,  I allow  ; but  still  our 
boys  can  do  it,  and  as  to  that  creetur  there,  I guess  I 
can  hit  him  flying  myself. 

''Flying!  ha!  ha!  My  dear  sir,  the  bird  never 
flies. 

" He^s  got  wings  — ^ hain^t  he  ? 

" CanH  certify  as  to  that,^^  responded  the  light-keeper  ; 
" never  saw  any,  at  least  — and  whaFs  still  more  remark- 
able, he  never  quits  this  shore. 

" Why,  you  don^t  mean  that  there  particular  bird, 
do  you  ? 

" That  identical  bird,  sir.’^ 

" He^s  got  a mate,  I reckon,  and  goes  off  once  in  a 
while  — don^t  he  ? 

"No,  sir,  he  has  no  mate  — never  had  any.^^ 

" Excuse  me,^^  said  the  stranger,  attempting  a smile  ; 
" Pm  not  long  in  this  section  of  the  world,  I allow,  but 
I guess  IVe  been  raised  too  near  one  Phineas  Barnum, 
you  might  hear  of,  to  believe  such  a story  as  that  ; and 
the  speaker  thrust  his  hands  down  lower  still  into  his 
pockets,  and  looked  knowingly  at  the  light-keeper. 

" I know  nothing  of  Phineas  Barnum, responded  Mr. 
Lee,  grounding  his  rifle  and  resting  on  the  muzzle,  " but 
I repeat  to  you,  nevertheless,  that  the  bird  you  see 
floating  on  the  water  there  before  your  eyes  has  never 
been  out  of  this  bay  for  the  last  eighteen  months,  and 
during  that  time  was  never  seen  in  any  other  creature’s 
company,  man,  bird,  or  beast.” 

" Shoh  ! you  don’t  say  so  — summer  or  winter  ? 
Why,  I rayther  think  that’s  impossible  — ain’t  it  ? ” 

" Summer  and  winter  are  all  the  same  to  him,”  replied 
the  light-keeper.  "I  have  seen  him  in  January,  when 
the  storm  threatened  to  blow  the  lantern  off  the  tower, 
and  the  sea  to  wash  this  little  island  and  all  it  contains 
into  the  deep,  — I have  seen  him  at  such  times  sitting 
as  calm  and  composed  on  the  swells  of  the  sea  as  a 


THE  YANKEE  .IN  IRELAND. 


51 


Turk  on  an  ottoman  smoking  his  pipe.  He^s  the  sauciest 
villain  that  ever  swam,  sir  — look  at  him  now  beyond 
the  boat  there  — see  how  the  rascal  comes  sailing  up  to 
us  like  a swan,  with  his  arched  neck  and  look  of  proud 
defiance. 

Is  the  piece  loaded  ? ’’  inquired  the  stranger,  in  a 
quiet,  modest  tone  of  voice. 

No,  sir  ; load  to  suit  yourself;  there^s  the  gun,  and 
here^s  the  powder  and  ball.  By  George,  if  you  kill 
him,  Ifil  say  you^re  the  best  marksman  in  Donegal. 

My  name  is  Weeks, said  the  stranger,  slowly 
drawing  the  ramrod  — Mr.  Ephraim  Weeks. 

Weeks, repeated  the  light-keeper  ; rather  a scarce 
name  in  this  part  of  the  world. 

Well,  yes  ; I guess  so  — Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks,^^ 
he  added  ; Mr.  Robert  Hard  wrinkle  of  Crohan^s  my 
cousin,  sir.  You^re  acquainted  less  or  more  with  the 
family,  I presume. 

‘VHave  heard  of  them,  sir;  and  quite  a respectable 
family  they  are,  by  all  accounts. 

Well,  yes  ; pretty  much  so,  I reckon,  for  this  part 
of  the  country  — should  be  happy  to  see  you  at  Crohan, 
Mr.  Lee,  whenever  youVe  a leisure  hour  to  spend.  My 
cousins  often  wonder  you  hainft  called  and  brought  Miss 
Lee  with  you  of  an  evening. 

Your  cousins  are  said  to  be  very  pious,  and  of 
high  literary  acquirements,’^  observed  Mr.  Lee,  not 
appearing  to  value  over  much  the  invitation  so  unex- 
pectedly and  patronizingly  tendered,  and  I fear  quite 
out  of  Miss  Lee’s  sphere  and  mine.  We  are  plain 
people  here,  sir,  unambitious  of  further  intercourse  with 
the  world  than  what  chance  sends  in  our  way.  Are 
you  ready,  sir  ? ” 

All  ready  ; and  now  have  the  goodness  to  remain 
just  where  you  stand,  and  look  straight  in  the  bird’s 
eye,  whilst  I take  aim.”  So  saying,  Weeks  knelt 
down,  and  resting  the  muzzle  of  the  rifle  on  a project- 
ing rock,  waited  in  that  position  for  nearly  five  minutes, 
giving  the  bird  time,  as  he  said,  to  forget  there  was  a 


UNIVERSITY  OF  ILUNQ1& 
LIBRARY, 


52 


MAKY  LEE, 


second  party  in  the  play.  ''  Now,  then,^^  he  cried,  at 
last,  hold  your  hand  up,  to  attract  his  attention ; 
and  as  Mr.  Lee  complied,  he  took  deliberate  aim  and 
fired. 

''  Capital  shot ! exclaimed  the  light-keeper.  ''  Capital 
shot,  by  George  — not  the  first  time  you  handled  a 
rifle,  I suspect.’^ 

We-ell,  no  — not  exactly  the  first,^^  drawled  out 
Mr.  Weeks,  with  a modest  complacency  that  well  be- 
came his  grave,  sallow  countenance  ; Vve  handled  the 
article  more  than  once,  I guess/’ 

Both  now  looked  anxiously  around,  where  the  bird 
might  be  likely  to  rise  ; but  no  bird  came  up  to  dot  the 
smooth  surface  of  the  water. 

Down  rather  longer  than  usual,”  said  the  light- 
keeper,  at  length  breaking  silence,  and  that’s  a sure 
sign  you  haven’t  touched  a feather  of  him.” 

Guess  you’re  mistaken,”  responded  Weeks  ; he’s 
floating  out  there  somewhere  as  dead  as  a door  nail. 
Ah  ! by  cracky ! there  he  is  l^dng  flat  on  the  water  ; 
see  ! ” — and  he  pointed  with  one  hand  while  he  shaded 
his  eyes  with  the  other  — ''  see,  there  he  is  ! ” 

''Where?  Ah,  yes!  by  George  I and  there  he  is, 
sure  enough  ; well,  now,  who  could  have  thought  it ! ” 
exclaimed  the  light-keeper,  seemingly  much  delighted 
with  the  discovery. 

The  object,  however,  to  which  the  stranger  pointed  hap- 
pened to  be  a little  whitish  colored  buoy,  a few  fathoms 
beyond  a boat,  that  lay  anchored  within  gun-shot  of  the 
island.  As  it  rose  and  fell  on  the  light  swells  of  the 
sea,  it  looked  by  no  means  unlike  a dead  bird  floating  on 
its  back.  Mr.  Lee  saw  the  mistake  in  an  instant,  and  re- 
solved to  humor  it. 

" Dead  as  a herring  I ” he  exclaimed,  taking  off  his 
hat  and  rubbing  up  his  gray  hair  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 
" Ha  ! ha  ! the  villain  1 he’s  caught  at  last.” 

"He’ll  never  trouble  you  again.  I’ll  bet,”  continued 
Weeks,  coolly  handing  over  the  rifle.  Then  laying  his 
hand  quietly  on  Mr.  Lee’s  shoulder,  he  added,  " I make 


THE  YANKEE  IN  lEELAND. 


53 


you  a present  of  the  bird,  my  friend,  for  I really  think  you 
deserve  it  richly,  after  such  an  almighty  waste  of 
powder/^ 

The  light-keeper  gravely  bowed  his  thanks. 

Well,  there’s  one  condition  I would  make,  Mr.  Lee, 
and  I kinder  think  youTl  not  object  to  it ; namely,  that 
you  stuff  the  creetur,  and  hang  it  up  here  in  the  passage 
among  the  fishing  rods  and  jack  lines.” 

''  Certainly,  Mr.  Weeks,  most  certainly,  sir,  your 
wishes  must  be  gratified.” 

And  look  here  ; you’ll  have  the  goodness  to  use 
this  for  a label  ; ” and  he  drew  a card  from  a richly 
chased  silver  case  he  carried  in  his  breast  pocket,  and 
handed  it  to  the  light-keeper  ; affix  this,  if  you  please, 
to  the  upper  mandible,  that  your  visitors  may  know  who 
shot  the  bird  — not  that  I care  to  make  a personal  boast 
about  it  — for  did  you  know  me  well,  you  would  say  if 
ever  there  was  a man  who  despised  boasting,  that  man 
is  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks.  But  I’ve  a notion,  somehow, 
that  it  would  be  just  as  well  for  the  old  European 
countries  here  to  know  what  sorter  people  we  are  in  the 
new  world  beyond,  and  consequently  think  it’s  the  duty 
of  every  free-born  American,  wherever  he  goes,  to  en- 
lighten mankind  as  to  the  character,  enterprise,  social 
advancement,  and  universal  intelligence  of  his  country- 
men. Yes,  sir,  it’s  a duty  our  people  owe  to  oppressed 
and  suffering  humanity  to  make  their  habits,  manners, 
customs,  laws,  government  and  policies  known  through- 
out universal  creation.  If  it  be  our  duty,  as  a nation, 
to  redeem  the  world  from  ignorance  and  slavery,  as  it  is, 
beyond  all  question,  then  I say  it’s  the  special  duty 
of  each  and  every  citizen  of  that  nation  to  contribute 
his  portion  to  the  advancement  and  final  completion 
of  the  great  work.  We  must  be  known,  sir,  in  order  to 
be  imitated.” 

As  the  speaker  went  on  to  develop  his  views  of  the 
great  scheme  for  promoting  the  moral  and  social  welfare 
of  the  human  family,  the  light-keeper  held  the  card  out 
before  him,  and  read  in  bronzed  copperplate  the  following 
5* 


54 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


address  : Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks,  Ducksville,  Connec- 
ticut. 

Humph  ! By  my  word  of  honor/ ^ he  muttered  at 
last,  that^s  a very  magnificent  affair. Then  running 
his  eye  over  the  person  of  his  visitor,  he  seemed  some- 
what puzzled  what  to  say.  The  card  case  protruding 
from  his  pocket,  the  rings  on  both  hands,  and  the  mas- 
sive watch  chain  round  his  neck,  were  all  apparently 
of  the  costliest  description,  and  might  well  have  adorned 
the  person  of  the  highest  noble  in  the  realm  ; on  the 
other  hand,  however,  it  struck  him  there  was  quite 
a contrast  between  the  gentleman^ s language  and  per- 
sonal appearance.  How  that  happened  he  was  at  a loss 
to  think,  and  therefore  it  was  he  made  no  reply,  but 
kept  glancing  from  the  card  to  the  stranger,  and  from 
the  stranger  to  the  card. 

I rather  think,  Mr.  Lee,  you  haven^t  met  many  of 
our  people  in  your  time,  eh  ? 

The  light-keeper  replied  in  the  negative. 

Well,  sir,  you  now  see  before  you  a real  American 
— a free-born  American,  sir,  — a citizen  of  the  great 
* Model  Kepublic  ; ^ and  the  speaker  again  thrust  his 
hands  into  his  breeches  pockets  as  deep  as  they  could 
well  go,  shook  up  the  silver  at  the  bottom,  and  with  a 
self-complacent  smile  on  his  thin  lips  watched  the  light- 
keeper^  s countenance  for  the  effect  of  the  startling  an- 
nouncement. 

But  Mr.  Lee  did  no  more  than  merely  compliment  him 
on  his  birthplace,  assuring  him,  at  the  same  time,  he 
should  always  feel  honored,  as  he  did  then,  in  making  the 
acquaintance  of  a citizen  of  the  republic  of  Washington, 
the  model  republic  of  the  world.  ''  But  with  respect 
to  the  stuffing, he  continued,  endeavoring  to  restrain 
a smile,  fear  there  is  none  to  be  found  here  who 
understands  it.^^ 

''  Well,  send  it  up  to  Crohan  ; I shall  see  to  it  mj- 
self ; guess  we  Yankees  know  a little  more  of  those 
things  than  you  do  here  in  the  ^ Green  Isle.^ 

No  doubt  of  it,  Mr.  Weeks,  no  doubt  of  it.  1^11 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


55 


send  it  immediately,  and  consider  it  a very  special  favor 
indeed/^ 

''  Now,  then,  talking  of  Americans,^^  said  Weeks,  ar- 
resting the  light-keeper  by  the  arm,  as  the  latter  began 
to  move  towards  the  lodge,  why  don^t  you  bring  some 
of  our  men  over  here  to  enlighten  you,  eh  ? You  have 
natural  talent  enough,  I guess,  if  youM  only  proper 
means  to  develop  it.  Could  you  only  get  up  an  associa- 
tion with  funds  enough  to  pay  Yankee  lecturers,  you 
would  soon  wake  up  to  a sense  of  your  capabilities.  Em- 
ploy our  lecturers,  sir,  and  send  them  over  the  country 
here,  from  town  to  town  and  village  to  village,  and  Fll 
bet  a fourpence  they^ll  open  your  eyes  wider  than  ever 
they  opened  before. 

''Don^t  doubt  it  in  the  least,^^  modestly  replied  the 
light-keeper  ; ''  but  won^t  you  come  in,  and  have  some 
refreshment  after  your  evening^s  exercise  ? Come  in, 
sir,  and  honor  my  little  cabin  with  your  presence  at 
least. 

Hold  on,’^  said  the  American,  again  detaining  the 
light-keeper  on  the  steps  of  the  threshold.  Look  here 
a minute,  if  youYe  not  in  a killing  hurry.  I should  like 
to  say  a word  or  two  about  shooting  that  Holland  hawk 
— it  may  serve  to  show  you  what  kind  of  people  we  are 
in  the  States.  Well,  to  begin  with,  we  calculate  never 
to  miss  a shot  at  either  man,  bird,  or  beast.  You  may 
smile,  sir,  but  it’s  the  fact,  nevertheless.  My  mother 
had  a cousin  once,  called  Nathan  Bigelow  — ” 

Excuse  me,  Mr.  Weeks  — let  us  step  into  my  office, 
if  you  please  ; I’ve  some  orders  to  give  — allow  me  — 
just  for  an  instant.” 

Well,  look  here,”  persisted  the  Yankee  ; ^^it’s  only 
a word  or  two.  I was  just  a going  to  say  that  my 
mother  had  a cousin  once,  called  Nathan  Bigelow,  and  a 
shrewd  man  Nathan  was.  Well,  he  was  said  to  be  some- 
where about  the  shrewdest  in  that  section  of  the  country. 
So  the  folks  thought  all  round.  If  there  happened  to 
be  town  meeting,  Nathan  was  sure  to  be  chairman  ; if 
referees  were  appointed  by  the  district  judge  on  a heavy 


56 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


case  of  damages  or  the  like,  Nathan  was  certain  to  be 
one  of  them  ; or  if  the  parson  and  deacon  had  a quarrel, 
Nathan  was  alwaj^s  called  in  to  settle  it.  Then  he  was 
consulted  by  half  the  farmers  round,  coming  on  seed  time, 
and  by  the  selectmen  about  the  taxes,  and  sometimes  by 
the  new  minister  about  the  doctrine  best  suited  to  his  con- 
gregation — though  the  fact  is,  Nathan  never  cared  much 
for  any  particular  kind  of  religion  himself  — that’s  a fact. 
So,  as  I was  going  to  remark,  cousin  Nathan  had  a favor- 
ite saying  of  his  own  — ” 

''  Hilloa,  there  ! ” interrupted  the  light-keeper  : pray 
excuse  me,  Mr.  Weeks  — hilloa,  there,  1 say  ! Are  you 
all  dead  ? Koger,  let  some  one  see  to  the  lantern  ; it’s 
almost  lighting  time.  Come  in,  Mr.  Weeks,  and  take  a 
seat  at  least.” 

Wait  a minute  — well,  as  I was  saying,”  he  con- 
tinued, still  drawling  out  his  words  slowly,  '^as  I was 
saying,  cousin  Bigelow  had  a favorite  saying  of  his  own 
— ' Take  good  care,  boy,  and  don’t  waste  your  powder.’ 
It  always  came  ready  to  him,  somehow,  and  he  could 
apply  it  to  every  which  thing  in  creation.  Many  a time, 
ill  the  long  winter  nights,  when  cousin  Nathan  used  to 
sit  by  the  log  fire  in  his  great  rocking-chair,  reading  Tom 
Paine’s  ' Age  of  Eeason,’  and  Martha  Proudfut,  his  wife, 
knitting  her  stocking  right  opposite,  with  the  ' Pilgrim’s 
Progress  ’ open  on  the  table  before  her,  and  your  humble 
servant  in  the  corner,  studying  his  book-keeping,  — 
many  a time,  I say,  did  cousin  Nathan  turn  round  to  me, 
without  the  least  provocation  in  the  world,  and  begin  to 
illustrate  the  old  maxim,  ' Take  good  aim,  boy,  and  don’t 
waste  your  powder.’  He  made  a — well,  he  made  it  a 
kind  of  text  to  spin  a sermon  from,  and  a better  sermon 
he  could  preach  — ay,  by  a long  chalk  — than  the  best 
preacher  in  the  district.  He  used  to  tell  me,  Nathan 
used, — and  if  he  did  once  he  did  a thousand  times, — 
that  the  old  saying,  simple  as  it  sounded,  had  more  gene- 
wine  philosophy  in  it  than  Aristotle  and  Epictetus  put 
together ; and  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Lee,  cousin  Nathan 
had  a terrible  regard  for  these  same  authors  — transla- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  ICELAND. 


57 


tions  of  course,  for  he  was  no  great  hand  at  the  dead  lan- 
guages, coming,  as  he  did,  from  the  old  Puritan  stock — his 
great-grandfather  being  a true  blue  May  Flower.  Well, 
Nathan,  to  be  plain  about  it  — was  a caution,  I tell  you, 
in  the  philosophy  line.  He  never  professed  much  admira- 
tion for  any  but  great  men,  and  these  were  what  he  called 
ticklers,  because,  as  he  said  himself,  they  were  the  only 
men  who  ever  tickled  humanity  in  the  right  place,  namely, 
Tom  Paine,  Benjamin  Franklin,  and  George  Washington. 
George,  he  thought,  was  the  greatest  man  ever  the  world 
produced  — and  I guess,  Mr.  Lee,^^  said  the  speaker, 
with  a knowing  look,  ^Mf  he  didn^t  hit  the  mark,  he  hit 
somewhere  within  a mile  of  that  neighborhood.^^ 

'Wery  true,^^  assented  the  light-keeper,  ^'he  certainly 
did.  Washington  was  a great  and  a good  man  ; all  must 
admit  that ; and  I trust  your  nation,  in  the  first  flush 
of  its  prosperity,  will  not  forget  his  wise  counsels 
either. 

Hope  not;  well,  what  I was  coming  at:  Nathan^s 
old  saying,  ^ Take  good  aim,  boy,  and  don^t  waste 
your  powder,^  so  constantly  repeated,  made  a lasting  im- 
pression on  my  mind.  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Lee,  he  had  a 
way  of  saying  a thing  that  — well,  kind  of  burnt  it  into 
you,  like.  There  was  no  forgetting  it  nohow ; it  was  a 
sort  of  searing  of  the  — 

'^0,  botheration  to  him ! exclaimed  the  light-keeper, 
no  longer  able  to  endure  the  tiresome  description’  chained 
as  he  was  to  the  speaker;  ^^what  matters  it  what  he 
was  ; he^s  dead  long  ago,  I suppose,  and  gone  to  his 
account.  But,  excuse  me,  Mr.  Weeks,^^  he  added  a 
moment  after,  ^'excuse  me;  Pm  entirely  ignorant,  you 
know,  of  your  national  characteristics.  When  longer 
acquainted,  I shall  understand  you  better.  And  now, 
my  dear  friend,  let  us  step  into  my  room — but  hold! 
who  comes  here  ? By  George,  its  Tom  Petersham,  in 
the  Water  Hen,  to  pay  us  a visit. 


68 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTEE  V. 

Mr.  Weeks  is  introduced  to  Captain  Tom  Petersham^  and 

is  invited  by  that  Gentleman  to  spend  a Day  at  Castle 

Gregory.  — He  also  has  the  good  Luck  to  catch  a 

Glimpse  of  Mary  Lee. 

The  little  craft  which  so  suddenly  arrested  the  light- 
keeper^s  eye,  as  he  turned  to  enter  the  lodge,  was  already 
within  five  minutes^  sail  of  the  long  flight  of  steps  lead- 
ing up  from  the  base  of  the  rock  to  the  lighthouse  yard. 
She  was  a yacht  of  small  tonnage,  but  elegantly  moulded. 
Her  white  hull,  sunk  almost  to  the  scuppers,  and  her 
light,  raking  spars,  gave  her  a janty  look,  that  seemed 
to  please  the  Yankee  exceedingly. 

''  Why,  by  cracky,  thaPs  an  American  boat,  rig  and 
hull  ! he  exclaimed.  Ha  ! I swonnie ! — had  her  built 
at  one  of  our  ship  yards,  I guess. 

''  She  was  built  in  Cork  harbor, replied  the  light- 
keeper.  Timber  or  plank,  mast  or  spar,  there^s  not  an 
American  chip  in  her.^^ 

-Not,  eh?^^ 

- No,  sir ; she^s  Irish,  every  inch  of  her,  from  the 
truck  to  the  keel.  Tom  Petersham  wouldn^t  own  her  if 
she  was  anything  else. 

- He  wouldn^t,  eh  ? 

The  light-keeper,  now  seeing  a boat  approaching  from 
the  yacht,  advanced  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  raised 
his  hat  to  a gentleman  who  sat  in  the  stern.  The  latter, 
as  soon  as  the  boat  touched,  stepped  ashore. 

- Hilloa,  there.  Master  Lee,^^  he  shouted  as  he  ascended 
the  steps  ; - I couldn’t  pass  without  calling  to  pay  my 
respects  to  pretty  Mary  — to  say  nothing  (0  Lord  ! this 
is  worse  than  Loughdearg  for  Father  John  — deuce  take 
them  for  steps  ; they  don’t  leave  a breath  in  me)  — not  to 
speak  of  the  numerous  injunctions  respecting  a promised 
visit  from  the  saucy  baggage.  Heigh-ho  ! I say,  Lee, 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


59 


— this  is  steeper  than  the  face  of  Gibraltar  ; and  let  me 
tell  you  — hugh  ! — you  must  provide  falls  and  tackle 
in  future,  if  you^d  have  me  visit  here.  Forty-three 
steps  ! monstrous  ! But  who  the  deuce ! — eh,  who 
is  that  ? he  demanded,  halting  to  take  breath  as  he 
reached  the  top,  and  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his 
face.  Who,  in  the  name  of  all  the  Malvolios,  is  he 
with  all  those  gewgaws  under  his  sporting  jacket  ? 

Hush,^^  said  the  light-keeper  ; ^^he^s  a foreigner. 

Nonsense  ! He^s  a cockney  tailor  come  down  to 
rusticate  — eh  ? 

No,  sir;  he^s  an  American,  and  a real  Yankee  into 
the  bargain. 

A Yankee  ! The  deuce  he  is  ! 

A native  of  Ducksville,  State  of  Connecticut.^^ 

Ho,  ho  ! now  I understand  y6u ; he’s  the  Crohan 
man  — cousin,  or  nephew,  or  something  of  that  kind,  to 
the  Hardwrinkles.  Very  good  ; he’s  just  the  man  I want 
to  see  ; present  me  forthwith.  Kate  wishes  to  see  him 
too,  of  all  things,  and  swears  she’ll  invite  him  to  the 
castle  herself,  if  I don’t.  Introduce  me  instantly  ; I’ll 
see  what  he’s  like,  and  then  ask  him  to  visit  us.” 

0,  the  young  fecamp  ! ” exclaimed  the  light-keeper, 
laughing  ; she’s  got  some  mischief  in  her  mad  pate,  I 
warrant  you.  If  the  good  gentleman  only  took  a friend’s 
advice,  he  would  stay  at  home,  and  keep  clear  of  her 
company.  But,  come  ; I’ll  introduce  you,  at  all  haz- 
ards.” 

Captain  Petersham,”  said  he,  taking  off  his  hat,  and 
motioning  with  the  grace  of  a well-bred  gentleman,  ^'let 
me  present  to  you  Mr.  Weeks,  of  Ducksville,  Connecti- 
cut, United  States.  Mr.  Weeks,  Captain  Petersham,  of 
Castle  Gregory.” 

The  American  bowed  low,  but  without  saying  a word 
or  changing  his  position  in  the  least.  Not  so  Mr.,  Peters- 
ham, who  despised  in  his  heart  all  kind  of  formality.^  save 
and  except  the  formalities  of  the  duel  ground  ; and  these 
he  understood  well,  and  could  practise  to  perfection. 

What  the  plague,  man  ! ” he  exclaimed,  don’t  be 


60 


MAHY  LEE,  OK 


SO  stiff  with  me.  Nonsense  ! you^re  an  American  citi- 
zen, and  that’s  enough,  sir  ; give  me  your  hand.  Ducks- 
ville  or  Drakesville  — I don’t  care  a barle^^-corn  what 
ville  you  are,  so  you’re  a free  American.  Come,  sir, 
let  us  be  friends  at  once,  and  make  no  more  pother 
about  it.” 

Excuse  me.  Captain  Petersham  ; you  make  a mis- 
take. My  name  ain’t  Ducksville  or  Drakesville  ; my 
name  is  Weeks  — Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks.” 

0,  hang  the  difference,  man  ! — it’s  all  the  same  — 
what  matters  it  ? Come,  let’s  join  Lee  in  his  office  — he’s 
gone  to  order  some  refreshments,  and  I’m  as  dry  myself 
as  a whistle  ; ” and  running  his  arm  into  the  astonished 
American’s,  he  dragged  him  along,  speaking  all  the 
while  with  his  usual  rapidity.  Pshaugh  1 it’s  all  bal- 
derdash— what’s  in  a name?  — why,  man,  it  don’t  sig- 
nify a straw  what  you’re  called.” 

Well,  no,  not  much,  I reckon ; but  if  it’s  just  the 
same  to  you,  I’d  rather  be  called  Weeks  — Ephraim 
Weeks.  Here’s  my  card,  sir,  if  you  please — ” 

**  Card  ! pshaugh  — all  humbug.  Keep  your  cards,  my 
dear  sir,  for  those  foolish  enough  to  use  the  toities.  But 
if  you  choose  to  be  called  Weeks,  I’ll  call  you  Weeks, 
certainly,  sir  ; and  an  excellent  name  it  is  for  an  Amer- 
ican.” 

Well,  it’s  sort  o’  handy  like  for  a business  man.” 

To  be  sure  — to  be  sure  — there’s  your  secretary  of 
legation,  Mr.  — Mr.  — what  the  plague  I I can  never 
remember  names  — Mr.  — Mr.  — 0 confound  it — Lin- 
kimdoodle  — or  something  of  that  sort,  — well,  sir,  he’s 
a fine  fellow,  that  Linkimdoodle,  a right  honest  thorough- 
going republican  as  I ever  met  in  my  life.  He  has  an 
odd  name,  to  be  sure;  but  what  of  that?  — No  one 
minds  it  — anything,  you  know,  will  do  in  a country  like 
yours,  where  you’ve  no  houses  yet,  or  pedigrees,  or 
things  of  that  description  to  trouble  you.  And  so  you’re 
staying  at  Crohan  with  the  Hard  wrinkles.  Well,  I can 
only  say  I’m  sorry  for  it  — they’ll  ruin  you,  that’s  all  — 
ruin  you,  sir,  body  and  soul.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


61 


''  The  Hardwrinkles  are  my  cousins,  Captain  Peters- 
ham.^^ 

Just  so  ; I know  ; I understand  all  that — but  youTl 
not  be  worth  a rap  farthing,  sir,  if  you  stay  with  them 
many  months  longer,  notwithstanding.^^ 

You  don^t  say  so  I 

I do,  sir.  TheyTl  first  reduce  you  down  with  psalm 
singing,  till  youh’e  as  flat  as  dish  water  and  as  weak  as  a 
wendle  straw,  and  then  finish  you  off  with  mock  piety, 
private  scandal,  and  weak  tea.  Take  my  advice,  sir, 
and  stay  with  them  as  little  as  possible.  Come  up  to 
Castle  Gregory,  where  there^s  some  life  to  be  had,  and 
come  as  often  as  you  can,  too  — weTl  be  always  glad  to 
see  you.  So  then  here  we  are  in  the  light-keeper^ s sanc- 
tum, and  here  comes  Drake  to  welcome  us.  Hands  off ! 

— hands  off,  Drake  — down,  down,  you  old  rogue  ; 
youh'e  as  wet  as  an  otter  — away,  and  bring  your  mis- 
tress here  ; I want  to  see  her.  But  whaPs  the  matter  ? 

— how  now  ! growling  at  your  guest  ? — ah  ! Drake, 
Drake,  that^s  inhospitable  — what  has  come  over  you, 
man  ? never  saw  you  act  so  un-Irish  before.  Excuse 
me,  sir  ; but  take  a seat,  take  a seat,  and  don’t  be  sur- 
prised to  see  me  make  so  free  in  another  man’s  house  — 
it’s  our  custom  here.  Heigh-ho  I ” he  added,  flinging 
himself  down  in  an  easy  chair,  and  his  gold-banded  sea- 
cap  over  his  shoulder  ; 'Mt  takes  me  a full  half  hour 
to  recover  breath  after  climbing  those  villanous  stens. 
Heigh-ho  ! and  so  you’re  an  American  citizen.” 

Well,  yes  ; I have  that  honor,  sir.” 

''Right,  sir, — and  it  is  an  honor  — no  doubt  of  it. 
But  how  warm  it  is  — eh?”  and  he  snatched  off  his 
stock  and  wiped  his  face  with  his  handkerchief.  " It’s 
those  outrageous  stairs  — eh  ! Besides,  I’m  not  feather 
weight  either,.  I suppose.  Humph  ! ” he  added,  glancing 
over  at  his  companion,  "you  have  the  advantage  of  me 
there,  sir  — you’re  thin.” 

"Yes,  rather  inclined  that  way,”  modestly  replied 
Weeks,  playing  with  his  watch-chain. 

6 


62 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


So  much  the  better,  sir,  so  much  the  better ; you’re 
in  a more  comfortable  summer  condition.” 

Well,  as  to  the  Weeks  side  of  the  house,”  observed 
the  American,  by  way  of  explanation,  they  were  never 
what  you  might  call  fleshy  people  ; but  the  Bigelows 
were  about  the  largest  boned  men  in  all  Connecticut. 
There  was  my  mother’s  cousin,  for  example,  one  Nathan 
Bigelow  — ” 

By  the  lord  Harry,  he’s  at  Nathan  again  1 ” came 
rumbling  along  the  hall,  in  the  deep  tones  of  the  burly 
light-keeper,  as  he  hurried  in  from  the  tower  to  welcome 
his  guests. 

Fortunately,  however,  Mr.  Weeks  was  at  that  moment 
in  the  act  of  speaking,  so  that  it  was  quite  impossible  for 
him  to  distinguish  the  words  ; otherwise  he  had  under- 
stood better  the  comic  smile  on  Captain  Petersham’s  face, 
as  that  gentleman  twirled  his  thumbs  and  gazed  over  at 
him  from  his  easy  chair. 

Let  me  see  ; you’re  somewhere  about  five  feet  eleven 
inches  — ain’t  you  ? ” 

Yes,  thereabouts.” 

''Well  — now,  as  to  the  weight,  I reckon  you’re  two 
hundred,  or  chock  up  to  it.” 

"Very  likely  — I might  be  three,  for  aught  I know,” 
replied  the  captain,  laughing. 

" Well,  cousin  Nathan  was  taller  by  nearly  two  inches, 
and  mother  says  before  he  lost  his  eye  on  muster  day 
he  weighed  close  on  two  twenty-five.  Still,  cousin 
Nathan  — ” 

" Hilloa,  there  ! hilloa,  Roger  O’Shaughnessy,”  broke 
in  the  light-keeper  again  ; " are  we  never  to  see  that 
brandy  and  water  ? Come  along,  man  ; only  lift  your 
feet,  and  they’ll  fall  themselves.” 

" Ay,  ay,”  muttered  the  old  man,  shambling  into  the 
room  in  his  old  bottle-green  livery  with  the  faded  lace 
and  the  two  solitary  buttons,  carrying  a massive  silver 
salver,  on  which  appeared  three  tumblers  and  a decanter 
with  something  resembling  brandy  on  the  bottom  of  it. 
" Ay,  ay,”  said  he,  " it’s  always  the  same  — just  for  all 


THE  YANKEE  IN  lEELAND. 


63 


the  world  as  if  he  was  at  home  in  the  ould  castle. 
Heigh  1 heigh  I It^s  nothing  but  Eoger  here  and  Roger 
there  — Roger,  bring  the  venison  ; Roger,  whereas  the 
champagne  ? Roger,  whereas  the  Burgundy  ? Roger, 
order  this  lord^s  carriage,  and  Roger,  order  that  lady^s 
barouche.  Heigh,  heigh,  heigh  I . Here  he  was  seized 
by  a fit  of  coughing  which  had  the  good  effect  of  termi- 
nating his  catalogue  of  complaints.  Och,  och  I said 
he  at  length,  when  he  recovered  a little  breath,  the 
Lord  be  with  the  time,  Captain  Petersham,  (bowing  with 
great  formality  to  that  gentleman,)  '‘when  Roger  had 
plenty  of  servants  to  assist  him.  But  sure  there^s  no 
help  for  it  now,  and  as  I burned  the  candle  I must  burn 
the  inch  ; and  the  old  man  turned  to  quit  the  room. 

" Stop,  Roger  ; hold  on  ; what  have  you  got  here  ? 
demanded  the  light-keeper,  holding  up  the  decanter  be- 
tween him  and  the  light. 

" There,  sir  ? 

"Yes,  here,  sir;  look  at  it.^^ 

" Why,  it^s  brandy,  av  coorse  — what  else  shud  it  be  ? 
But  may  be  it^s  wine,  yer  honor  wants  — ugh  ! ugh  ! — 
what  kind  iv  wine  id  you  like,  sir  ? Fll  bring  it  imma- 
diately.^^ 

" Wine  ! you  old  schemer,  you  know  there^s  not  a 
drop  of  wine  in  the  house. 

" Me  ! 

" Ay,  you  ; you  know  it  well  — nor  hasnT  been  these 
twelve  months. 

" Och,  och,  the  Lord  luck  to  us  ! ’’  exclaimed  Roger, 
raising  his  hands  in  grave  astonishment ; " it^s  wondher- 
ful  — wondherful,  entirely.  His  mimory^s  clane  gone, 

sir,  (turning  to  Captain  Petersham.)  It^s  only  the  mat- 
ther  of  four  weeks,  or  so,  since  we  got  — let  me  see  — 
ahem  ! ahem  ! — two  pipes  iv  claret  — one  Madeira  ; 
and  he  began  to  count  them  on  his  fingers  — " ahem  I 
two  iv  claret  — one  Madeira  — one  — 

" Bon^t  mind  him,  don^t  mind  him,^^  said  the  captain, 
rising  from  his  easy  chair,  and  good  naturedly  laying  his 
hand  on  Roger^s  shoulder  ; " he’s  enough  to  vex  a saint. 


64 


MABY  LEE,  OB 


Well,  Roger  — let  him  do  as  he  pleases  ; if  he  choose  to 
refuse  us  a glass  of  wine  in  this  beggarly  way,  why,  we 
can  remember  it  to  him  — that^s  all/^ 

0,  my  hearths  broke  wid  him,  yer  honor/^ 

To  be  sure  it  is  — you^re  a living  martyr,  Roger.  I 
declare,  I don^t  see  how  you  can  stand  it  — it’s  insuffera- 
ble— quite  insufferable.’’ 

Och,  och ! I wish  to  patience  he  was  back  in  his 
own  ould  castle  again,  yer  honor,  for  since  the  docthors 
ordhered  him  down  here  for  the  benefit  of  his  health, 
there’s  no  comfort  to  be  had  wid  him,  night  or  day  — 
but  sure,  if  he  didn’t  lose  his  mimory,  it  wouldn’t  be  so 
bad,  allthegither.  And  then  I’m  shamed  out  iv  my  life 
wid  him.  Why,  if  you’d  only  hear  to  him,  Mr.  Peters- 
ham — ahem  I that’s  if  you  were  a stranger,  you  know, 
sir,  like  that  gentleman,  — you’re  most  obedient,  sir,  — 
and  didn’t  know  the  differ,  ye’d  think  there  wasn’t  a 
screed  iv  dacency  left  about  him,  at  all,  at  all ; ” and  as 
he  thus  went  on  to  make  his  private  complaints  to  the 
captain,  still,  however,  in  a voice  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
by  the  American,  he  kept  ever  and  anon  glancing  at  the 
great  silver  salver  on  the  table,  as  if  making  a silent  ap- 
peal to  it  for  testimony  against  his  master. 

During  this  little  conversation  with  Captain  Petersham, 
the  light-keeper  called  him  several  times,  but  Roger  was 
too  much  engaged  to  attend  him. 

Roger  ! — are  you  deaf?  Roger!  ” 

Sir,  sir.” 

Is  this  all  the  brandy  you  have  in  the  house  ? An- 
swer me,  yes  or  no.” 

Ahem  ! Answer  you  yes  or  no  ; why,  av  coorse  I’ll 
answer  you  — that  is,  if  I only  knew  what  you  mane.” 

Well,  look  here,” — and  Mr.  Lee  stepped  over  to 
the  old  man,  and  shook  the  decanter  within  an  inch  of 
his  eyes  — ''  you  call  this  brandy  ? ” 

''  Sartinly,  sir,  the  best  cagniac  ; it  cost  just  seven  — ” 
Never  mind  the  cost ; you  have  here  about  three 
thimblefuls  or  thereabouts — for  three  gentlemen.” 

No,  sir,  there’s  a good  half  bottle,  and  more  — ahem  ! 


THE  YANKEE  IN  ICELAND. 


65 


ahem  ! it  looks  little,  but  it^s  on  broad  bottom  ; hem,  it^s 
a broad  bottom,  sir.^^ 

Well,  now,  I want  to  know  — if  youVe  any  more  of 
the  same  left?  — that^s  plain  enough,  I think/^ 

''Why,  dear  me,  such  a question!  Och,  och  — and 
two  casks  untouched  in  — 

" Hold  your  lying  tongue  and  answer  me,  sir  ; have 
you  ? yes  or  no.^^ 

" Yes,  yes,  puncheons  of  it/^ 

"Go  fetch  it  then,  forthwith  — go  now  instantly  ; 
and  he  pushed  him  gently  towards  the  door. 

" Sartinly,  sir,  sartinly,^^  replied  Roger,  moving  off  as 
fast  as  his  old,  shaky  limbs  would  carry  him,  the  long  skirts 
of  his  old  bottle-green  coat  oscillating  as  he  went.  " Most 
sartinly,  sir  ; it^s  aisy  enough  to  do  that — why,  if  I only 
knew  what  in  the  world  ye  were  coming  at,  all  the  time, 
rd  have  it  here  now.^^ 

" He^s  the  greatest  old  plague,  that,  in  the  whole  uni- 
verse,said  the  light-keeper;  " not  a respectable  visitor 
ever  comes  to  see  us,  but  he  acts  just  in  the  same  way. 
He  would  make  you  believe,  Mr.  Weeks,  — Captain  Pe- 
tersham here  knows  all  about  him  long  ago,  — he  would 
make  you  believe  his  master  as  rich  as  Croesus,  and  sta3^- 
ing  down  here  only  by  advice  of  his  physician.  You 
observed  the  old  bottle-green  livery  he  wears  ; well,  he 
has  worn  that,  to  my  own  knowledge,  five  and  twenty 
years,  and  in  all  probability,  his  father  before  him,  for  as 
many  more.  As  for  this  antiquated  piece  of  plate  on  the 
table,  he  brings  it  out  on  every  possible  occasion.  The 
old  coat  and  the  old  salver  are  in  fact  his  great  stand-bys, 
and  with  these  he  imagines  he  can  make  a show  of  ' da- 
cency,^  were  the  house  as  bare  and  empty  as  the  ruins 
of  Baalbec.^^ 

" Poor  Roger,’^  said  the  captain ; " he’s  a regular 
Caleb  Balderstone.” 

" Precisely  — the  only  difference,  perhaps  — that  Caleb 
was  a creation,  and  Roger  a reality.” 

" Balderstone,”  said  Weeks;  "let  me  see;  Balder- 
6 * 


66 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


stone  — warn^t  he  something  to  the  Balderstones  of 
Skowhegan,  down  east  ? 

''Ha,  ha ! chuckled  Captain  Petersham;  "can’t 

say  as  to  that.” 

" AVell,  them  Balderstones  of  Skowhegan  were  tre- 
mendous smart  men,  I tell  you;  and  cousin  Nathan 
says  they  fought  at  Lexington  like  tigers  and  cata- 
mounts,” 

" No,  no  ; Caleb  was  of  quite  another  character,” 
replied  the  light-keeper.  " He  was  born  of  a wizard, 
and  shall  live  as  long  as  the  world  lasts.  Some,  indeed, 
go  so  far  as  to  say,  that  he  and  Campbell’s  last  man  are 
destined  to  expire  together.” 

" Well,  he’s  not  a mortal,  I reckon.” 

" No,  sir,  he’s  immortal  as  the  gods.” 

During  this  latter  part  of  the  conversation,  Roger 
O’Shaughnessy  had  returned  as  far  as  the  room  door, 
and  remained  standing  on  the  threshold,  for  a minute  or 
more,  looking  in.  In  the  attitude  he  assumed  he  pre- 
sented a striking  appearance.  His  once  tall  and  power- 
ful frame,  now  bent  and  wasted  with  years,  — the  old 
laced  coat  hanging  from  his  attenuated  shoulders  in 
6mpty  folds,  — the  white  hairs  that  still  remained 
brushed  up  on  each  side,  and  meeting  in  a crest  over  his 
polished  scalp,  gave  him  the  look  of  a fine  old  ruin,  tot- 
tering to  its  fall,  with  all  its  friendly  ivy  dead  in  the 
dust,  save  a few  weak  but  faithful  tendrils  clinging  fast 
to  it  still. 

" Excuse  me,  Mr.  Lee,  for  interrupting  you,”  said 
Weeks,  " but  the  old  gentleman  here  at  the  door  seems 
to  want  something.” 

" What ! Roger,  — well,  Roger,  what’s  the  matter  ? ” 

"Ahem!”  said  Roger,  "ahem!  about  the  brandy, 
your  honor.” 

" Well — about  the  brandy  — where  is  it  ? why  don’t 
you  bring  it  in  ? ” 

"The  key — ahem!  the  key  of  the  cellar,  sir,”  said 
Roger,  without  venturing  to  look  at  his  master. 

" What  of  it?  ” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


67 


Ahem  ! It^s  not  to  be  found,  sir  ; you  or  Miss  Mary 
must  have  it/^ 

''  Me ! I never  touched  the  key  in  my  life/^ 

Dear  me,  then,  what^s  to  be  done,  your  honor  ? The 
brandy^s  in  the  cellar,  and  there^s  no  key  to  open  it/^ 

''  I don^t  believe  a word  of  it ; but  did  you  ask  Miss 
Lee  for  the  key  ? 

''  She^s  not  to  be  found,  either,  sir/^ 

^'Ha,  ha!  — I thought  so.  I knew  all  the  time  it 
would  come  to  that  at  last.^^ 

''  If  you  could  put  up  for  this  time  with  some  of  the 
best  old  Innishowen,  that  ever  was  doubled, said  Roger, 
''  you  can  have  a hogshead  of  it  in  a jiffey.^^ 

Innishowen  ! cried  the  captain  ; and  put  up  with 
it,  too  ! Nonsense  ! nonsense  ! Roger,  bring  it  in  here 
instantly.  Why,  you  old  villain,  it^s  worth  its  weight  in 
gold.  Compare  French  brandy  with  Innishowen  poteen, 
indeed  I Why,  the  Irishman  who  would  do  that  should 
be  sent  to  the  stocks,  and  physicked  with  frogs  and  assa- 
foetida.  Begone,  and  fetch  it  instanter.  Away ! my 
timers  up.^^ 

Roger  soon  returned  with  a bottle  of  excellent  whiskey, 
of  which  we  must  not  omit  to  say,  Mr.  Weeks  declined 
to  partake  — nay,  absolutely  rejected  in  the  most  posi- 
tive manner,  as  a thing  entirely  against  his  principles  and 
habits  of  life.  But  the  light-keeper  and  his  good  neigh- 
bor, the  lord  of  Castle  Gregory,  made  no  pretensions  to 
such  principles  or  habits ; they  filled  their  glasses  and 
drank  to  each  other,  and  to  the  success  of  the  Stars  and 
Stripes,  as  a compliment  to  Mr.  Weeks,  in  full  bumpers  of 
Irish  grog,  without  fear  or  shame,  reproach  or  remorse. 

Captain  Petersham  had  scarcely  finished  his  draught, 
and  flung  the  tumbler  on  the  table,  loudly  protesting 
against  all  state  temperance  laws  and  teetotal  societies,  as 
being  the  provocation  of  half  the  drunkenness  in  the 
world,  when  a sailor,  cap  in  hand,  presented  himself  at 
the  door. 

How  now,  Bradley  — what’s  the  matter  ? ” 

Mr.  Ratlin  says  there’s  a blow  coming  up  from  the 


68 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


westward,  sir,  and  in  half  an  hour  we’ll  have  ebb  tide. 
He  waits  orders.” 

^'Well,  get  the  boat  ready.  I’ll  be  with  you  in  a 
second.” 

He  now  approached  the  window,  and  glanced  for  an 
instant  at  the  west.  There  it  comes,  Lee,”  he  ex- 
claimed, tumbling  up  in  lumps  over  Tory  Island  ; you’ll 
have  it  whistling  about  your  ears  here  in  half  an  hour.  I 
must  get  aboard  the  Water  Hen,  and  pack  on  sail,  or 
she’ll  not  fetch  Ballymastocker  to-night.  But  look  here  ; 
who’s  that  under  the  rock,  there,  speaking  to  Mistress 
Mary  ? He’s  a devilish  fine-looking  young  fellow,  eh  ! ” 

The  light-keeper  hastened  to  the  window.  Hah  ! by 
George,”  he  exclaimed,  muttering  the  words  to  himself, 
the  instant  his  eye  rested  on  the  person  alluded  to,  '^he 
is  back  again.” 

Who  is  he,  Lee  — eh?  surely  I’ve  seen  that  young 
man  before  -—who  is  he  ? ” 

Mr.  Lee  smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

''0,  hoh,  that’s  it,  is  it?  Very  well,  if  there’s  any- 
thing particular  about  him,  keep  it  to  yourself.” 

And  having  requested  Mr.  Lee  to  make  his  apology  to 
Mary  for  running  away  so  abruptly,  and  invited  Weeks 
to  visit  him  as  soon  as  possible,  he  hurried  off,  without 
further  delay,  to  his  yacht.  The  moment  his  foot  touched 
her  deck,  she  was  seen  crowding  on  every  stitch  of  canvas 
that  would  draw,  and  then  gracefully  bending  under  the 
gentle  pressure  of  the  evening  breeze,  the  little  Water 
Hen  glided  up  the  Swilly,  and  soon  disappeared  in  the 
deepening  shadows  of  Eathmullen  Bluffs. 

The  light-keeper  had  accompanied  his  friend  to  the 
head  of  the  steps  to  bid  him  good  by  and  a fair  voyage, 
and  the  American,  taking  advantage  of  his  absence,  in- 
stantly turned  to  the  window,  and  there  kept  watching 
Mary  Lee  and  her  companion  so  intently,  and  with  so 
absorbing  an  interest,  that  old  Roger  had  picked  up  his 
silver  card  case  which  had  fallen  from  his  pocket,  and  laid 
it  on  his  knee,  without  his  having  noticed  it  in  the  least. 
The  spot  on  which  the  young  couple  stood  conversing. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


69 


was  a small  patch  of  greensward  directly  above  the  nar- 
row channel  called  tlie  DeviPs  Gulch  and  canopied  over 
by  a long,  flat,  projecting  rock.  The  place  was  some 
seventy  feet  above  the  roaring  water,  cut,  as  it  were,  in 
the  face  of  the  precipice,  and  nearly  on  a level  with  the 
window  at  which  the  American  sat  looking  at  them  so 
intently.  The  distance  between  was  not  more  than  thirty 
feet;  yet  near  as  it  was.  Weeks  could  have  distinguished 
little  more  than  their  mere  outlines,  had  not  the  great 
lantern,  now  lit  up,  shed  its  flood  of  light  full  on  their 
persons,  revealing  every  motion  and  feature  distinctly  to 
his  gaze. 

A shade  of  melancholy  overspread  the  handsome  face 
of  the  young  man  as  he  leaned  on  the  boat  hook,  (with 
which  he  had  climbed  the  rocks,)  and  conversed  with  his 
fair  companion.  His  black,  waving  hair  fell  in  profusion 
over  his  bluejacket,  from  the  breast  pockets  of  which  the 
silver  mountings  of  a brace  of  travelling  pistols  glinted 
in  the  clear  lamplight.  His  neck  was  entirely  bare,  as 
if  the  heat  of  the  day,  or  his  previous  exertions,  had 
obliged  him  to  remove  his  cravat,  and  his  whole  bearing 
that  of  a brave,  self-reliant,  fearless  young  fellow,  of  hon- 
est heart  and  ready  hand.  Mary  Lee  stood  by  his  side, 
dressed  in  her  blue  kirtle  and  straw  hat,  the  picture  of 
angelic  loveliness.  Her  face,  always  smiling  before, 
was  now  pale  and  thoughtful,  as  if  the  melancholy  which 
shadowed  the  countenance  of  her  companion  had  touched 
her  heart.  Her  petite  figure,  as  she  leaned  lightly  against 
the  rock,  her  modest  eyes  bent  on  the  green  grass  at  her 
feet,  her  long  auburn  ringlets  falling  in  showers  over  her 
shoulders,  and  above  all,  her  unaffected  simplicity  of  man- 
ner, gave  her  a striking  resemblance  to  those  beautiful 
creatures  which  Raphael  paints  in  his  Espousals  of  the 
Virgin.  Once  or  twice  she  raised  her  eyes  to  those  of 
her  companion  ; but  she  as  often  turned  them  away,  as  if 
the  sadness  of  his  looks  gave  her  pain.  His  gestures  and 
motions  were  those  of  entreaty  ; but  she,  on  her  part, 
appeared  to  make  no  reply  — save  to  shake  her  head  and 
look  up  sorrowfully  in  his  face.  At  length  the  voice  of 


70 


MABY  LEE,  OB 


the  light-keeper  was  heard  round  the  house,  calling  her 
in  from  the  approaching  storm,  and  she  could  stay  no 
longer.  As  the  moment  of  parting  came,  she  drew  from 
her  bosom  something  resembling  a medal  or  locket  and 
chain,  and  pressing  it  devoutly  to  her  lips,  gently  threw 
it  over  the  young  man^s  neck.  She  then  gave  him  her 
hand,  and  bidding  him  farewell,  sprang  round  the  edge  of 
the  rock  with  the  nimbleness  of  a fawn,  and  disappeared 
in  an  instant.  Her  companion  followed  her  with  his  eyes 
as  long  as  she  remained  in  sight,  and  then  carefully  con- 
cealing the  little  treasure  in  his  bosom,  slowly  turned  and 
left  the  place. 

''  Well,’^  said  Mr.  Weeks  to  himself  as  he  moved  over 
from  the  window  and  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  table  beside 
him,  she^s  a handsome  gal,  that  — no  mistake  about  it; 
and  that  feller  looks  to  be  a purty  smart  kinder  chap,  too, 
and  not  ill  lookin  either.  But  who  in  creation  is  he  ? 
There^s  some  mysteiy  about  him,  that^s  sartin.  I could 
see  that  by  the  light-keeper,  when  the  captain  asked  his 
name.  But  hold  on  for  a bit ; Fll  soon  learn  the  secret 
from  Mother  Curley.  That  was  some  sorter  charm,  Fll 
bet  .a  fourpence,  that  thing  she  put  round  his  neck — • 
some  papistry,  I reckon.  But  ain^t  she  all-fired  brazen 
faced  to  go  up  there  right  straight  before  the  window  ? — 
By  cracky,  they  do  up  that  kinder  business  sorter  strange 
down  here  in  these  diggins  — they^re  ahead  of  New  Jer- 
sey; ky  a long  chalk.  But  after  all,  perhaps  it^s  her 
favorite  retreat,  and  the  feller  found  her  there.  She  ex- 
pected him  — sartin.  I saw  that  by  her  face  when  she 
came  peeking  in  at  the  window,  and  I rather  suspect  she 
warn’t  aware  of  Captain  Petersham’s  arrival  either,  or 
that  Ephraim  Weeks  was  in  the  oflSce  with  her  uncle. 
AVell,  she’s  handsome  — that’s  a fact  — and  with  those 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  I know  of  to  back  her 
up,  she’s  wife  enough  for  any  man.  Ha,  she  little  thinks 
what  belongs  to  her  tother  side  the  big  pond  — and  she 
won’t  either  — till  she’s  got  her  nose  up  to  the  hitchin 
post.  She’ll  be  skittish,  I guess,  at  first ; but  Fll  take 
the  old  woman’s  advice,  and  coax  her  to  it  gently.  She 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


71 


can  only  refuse,  do  her  best ; and  when  she  does,  why 
it^s  then  time  enough  to  put  the  screws  on.  They’re 
poor  as  poverty,  that’s  clear,  and  it  won’t  be  very  hard 
to  corner  them  up  in  a tight  place.  A month  or  two 
in  limbo  would  settle  the  old  chap’s  light-keepin,  and 
then  the  girl,  all-fired  proud  and  all  as  she  is,  might  be 
glad  — ” 

He  was  suddenly  interrupted  in  his  reflections  by  the 
entrance  of  the  two  persons  in  whom  he  seemed  to  be  so 
deeply  interested. 

''  Here’s  an  impudent,  saucy  little  baggage,  Mr.  Weeks, 
who  desires  to  offer  you  an  apology  for  her  dog’s  very 
bad  behavior  to-day,”  said  the  light-keeper,  leading  Mary 
by  the  hand.  Miss  Lee,  sir.  Mary,  this  gentleman  is 
Mr.  Weeks,  of  Drakesville,  Connecticut,  United  States.” 

Ducksville,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Lee,  not  Drakesville,” 
said  Weeks,  after  one  of  his  profound  inclinations  to  the 
young  lady  ; the  difference  ain’t  much,  but  still  — ” 

0,  excuse  me,  excuse  me,  sir,”  said  the  light-keeper; 

so  it  is  — I made  a mistake  — Ducksville,  my  dear. 
State  of  Connecticut.” 

Allow  me  to  offer  you  my  card,”  said  Weeks,  smiling 
faintly  and  patronizingly  on  the  young  girl,  as  he  drew 
it  slowly  out  from  the  silver  case. 

Thank  you,  sir,”  she  replied,  modestly  courtesying 
and  accepting  the  favor,  without  the  least  sign  of  sur- 
prise at  the  strangeness  of  the  compliment. 

I regret  very  much,  sir,  the  loss  of  your  fishing  lines 
this  evening,”  she  said;  ‘^but  if  you  permit  me,  I shall 
replace  them.” 

Pray,  don’t  mention  it,”  replied  Weeks,  interrupting 
her.  You’re  exceedingly  kind.  Miss  Lee,  but  I assure 
you  I have  lots  of  such  traps  to  spare.” 

Drake  is  a very  bold  fellow  in  the  water,  sir,  and 
don’t  mind  his  mistress  in  the  least,  when  there’s  any 
thing  like  game  to  be  seen.  But  then,  he’s  so  good  and 
faithful  that  we  must  forgive  him  a great  many  faults. 
Drake,  Drake,”  she  cried,  where  are  you  ? ” and  as  the 
brown  curly-haired  old  fellow  came  in,  wagging  his  tail, 


72 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


she  ordered  him  to  kneel  down  before  the  gentleman  and 
ask  his  pardon.  But  Drake,  instead  of  kneeling,  as,  no 
doubt,  he  was  taught  to  do  on  such  occasions,  began  to 
growl  at  the  stranger,  and  would  probably  have  sprung 
at  him  if  Mr.  Lee  had  not  promptly  interposed  his  au- 
thority, and  commanded  him  to  leave  the  room. 

*^How  very  strange  ! said  Mary,  speaking  to  her 
uncle  ; I never  saw  him  act  so  rudely  before. 

Some  kink  the  old  fellow  has  got  in  his  head.  But 
I fear  Mr.  Weeks  will  find  his  first  visit  to  us  down  here 
a very  disagreeable  one,  so  many  things  have  conspired 
to  make  it  so.  The  loss  of  his  fishing  tackle  and  his  fine 
trout,  to  boot ; then  the  absence  of  the  inmates  here,  and 
his  having  to  sit  so  long  alone  before  any  one  came  to 
bid  him  welcome  ; and  finally,  the  unkind  and  ungenerous 
behavior  of  Drake ; why,  upon  my  word,  Mr.  Weeks, 
you  must  think  Araheera  light  a very  barbarous  place. 

^^0,  don^t  mind  — don^t  mind;  I can  get  along,  I 
guess,  most  any  where.  WeTl  make  it  all  right  yet.  As 
for  the  loss  of  the  flies  and  casting  line,  I feel  quite 
pleased  about  it,  since  it  has  procured  me  the  acquaint- 
ance of  so  lovely  and  accomplished  a young  lady  as  Miss 
Lee.’^ 

Mary  blushed,  hung  down  her  head,  and  tried  to  say 
something  ; but  her  confusion  at  so  blunt  and  unexpected 
a compliment  silenced  her  completely.  The  light-keeper, 
however,  came  to  her  assistance. 

If  you  talk  to  her  in  that  style,  Mr.  Weeks,  said 
he,  '^youTl  play  the  deuce  with  her  — see,  she^s  all  over 
blushes  already. 

‘‘We-ell,  I generally  calculate  to  speak  to  the  point, 
Mr.  Lee.  It  was  always  my  habit  to  be  frank  with  every 
one,  and  I can  safely  say,  I should  be  most  willing  to  lose 
all  the  fishing  tackle  I ever  owned,  for  the  pleasure 
afforded  me  by  this  introduction  ; she^s  a most  beautiful 
and  amiable  girl,  — there^s  no  mistake  about  it,  — and 
I^m  not  ashamed  to  say  so,  though  you  are  her  uncle. 

Mary,  the  gentleman  v/ill  set  you  crazy,  if  you  stay 
here  much  longer  — away  with  you,^^  he  added,  patting 


THE  YANKEE  IN  ICELAND. 


73 


her  affectionately  on  the  cheek  ; away  into  some  corner, 
and  hide  your  blushes  ; Mr.  Weeks  will  excuse  your 
further  presence  ; and  dropping  her  hand,  he  permitted 
her  to  shrink  back  and  glide  away  like  a fairy  from  the 
room. 

Well,  I guess  I shariat  wait  much  longer,  either, 
said  Weeks,  picking  up  his  cap  and  preparing  to  leave. 

I see  the  storm^s  coming  on,  and  Fve  got  somewhat  of 
a walk  before  me ; but  I was  just  athinkin  to  come  down 
here  once  in  a while  to  have  a day^s  fishin  or  so,  and  a 
talk  about  the  United  States,  at  our  leisure/^ 

The  light-keeper  smiled,  and  assured  him  he  should  be 
happy  to  see  him  at  any  time,  and  cheerfully  do  all  in 
his  power  to  make  his  visit  to  the  country,  and  particu- 
larly to  Araheera  Head,  as  agreeable  as  possible. 

And  look^e  here,^^  said  Weeks,  buttoning  his  coat ; 
**  if  there^s  any  thing  I can  do  to  oblige  you,  in  the  way 
of  friendship,  don’t  hesitate  an  instant,  but  tell  me  right 
out.  It  may  happen  you’d  want  a friend’s  advice,  a — 
well,  no  matter,  you  understand  me.  I’m  a single  man, 
Mr.  Lee,  and  have  a leetle  more  at  my  banker’s,  I guess, 
than  I’ve  any  particular  occasion  to  use.  Good  after- 
noon, sir.” 

Good  by,  and  thank  you  for  your  good  will,”  said 
the  light-keeper,  somewhat  surprised  at  the  stranger’s 
liberality.  I shall  most  assuredly  consult  with  you, 
Mr.  Weeks,  when  occasion  requires  it.” 

I say  — hold  on!  ” said  Weeks,  again  turning  back 
when  half  way  down  the  avenue  ; that  bird,  you’ll  not 
forget  to  send  it,  eh  ? — all  right ; guess  I can  get  it  up 
for  you  in  pretty  good  shape.”  And  waving  his  hand, 
he  set  out  on  his  journey  to  Crohan,  the  residence  of  the 
Ilardwrinkles. 


7 


74 


LEE,  OR 


CHAPTER  YI. 

Uncle  Jerry.  — His  Character.  — The  Shipwreck  at  Bal- 
lyhernan, 

''  Ha,  ha  ! very  well,  I declare  ! and  so  there  you  are 
at  last!  said  Uncle  Jerry,  raising  his  spectacles  to  his 
forehead  and  peering'  at  Dr.  Camberwell  as  he  entered  the 
room,  a few  days  after  the  events  related  in  the  last  chapter. 

Good  morning,  sir  ; how  d’ye  do?”  said  the  doctor; 
**  any  calls  since  I left  ? ” 

No  ; none  but  Lanty  Hanlon,”  replied  Mr.  Gnirkie, 
pulling  down  his  spectacles  again,  and  resuming  his  em- 
ployment ; ''  and  there’s  a mallard  wing  he  brought  me,” 
pointing  at  it  sideways  with  his  eye,  ''  not  worth  a brass 
button.” 

''  Don’t  doubt  it  in  the  least ; couldn’t  expect  any  thing 
better.” 

Why — just  look  at  it.  Mrs.  Motherly’s  blue  drake 
out  in  the  yard  there  has  got  better  feathers  for  a June 
trout  by  all  odds.” 

It  looks  like  the  wing  of  a young  turkey  ; don’t  it  ? ” 

**  Upon  my  word  it’s  a fact  — the  spots  are  as  big  as 
the  point  of  my  thumb,  every  one  of  tliem.” 

Well,  you’ll  find  Lanty  out  yet,  some  day  or  other,  I 
suspect,”  said  the  doctor,  sitting  down  on  the  sofa,  ap- 
parently much  fatigued. 

It  was  about  the  child  he  came,”  resumed  Mr.  Guir- 
kie  ; I had  almost  forgotten  it  — about  that  widow’s 
child  down  at  Ballymastocker.” 

What’s  the  matter  with  it  ? ” 

The  measles.” 

The  measles  1 ” 

Yes,  and  I prescribed  in  your  absence  ; so  I suppose 
you’ll  scold  me  for  it,  eh  ? ” 

Scold  you  I no.  Why  should  I scold  you  ? Upon 
my  word,  you'  know  quite  enough  about  the  profession 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


75 


to  turn  doctor  yourself.  And  so  you  prescribed  ; — what 
did  you  give  him  ? 

Gin,  of  course  — good  Hollands,  and  to  be  taken 
freely.’^ 

Capital;  the  very  best  medicine  you  could  order.^^ 

But  only  at  a certain  stage  of  the  disease,  eh  ? 

''  0,  of  course,  at  the  incipient  stage  ! 

''Very  true,^^  said  Uncle  Jerry  ; thaUs  just  it,  pre- 
cisely ; and  he  laid  down  the  fly  he  was  dressing  to 
wax  a silk  thread,  whilst  he  still  continued  the  subject, 
apparently  much  interested  ; ''  that^s  exactly  the  very 
thing ; taken  at  the  proper  time,  iCs  the  very  best  medi- 
cine in  the  world.  It  saved  my  life  once,  in  Trinidad, 
when  attacked  by  the  small-pox. 

Possible  ? 

Yes,  ^ir,  and  I have  invariably  recommended  it  in 
similar  cases  ever  since. 

''No  other  calls  ? ’’ 

" None  to  speak  of.  That  Mr.  Weeks  was  here  about 
his  headache,  or  faceache,  or  whatever  ache  you  please 
to  call  it.^^ 

" Neuralgia,  I rather  think  ; and  a pretty  troublesome 
acquaintance  it  is  to  get  rid  of.^^ 

" I declare/^  said  Uncle  Jerry,  snapping  the  thread 
which  he  should  have  had  the  patience  to  cut  with  the 
scissors,  " I declare  and  vow,  it  matters  very  little  wheth- 
er he  ever  gets  rid  of  it.  He^s  but  a very  poor  concern, 
that  same  Mr.  Weeks. 

" 0,  I see  you  have  been  disputing  again  — ha!  ha  1 
"Very  well,  iPs  not  my  fault  if  we  have.  Pm  sure 
I never  dispute  with  any  one,  if  I can  help  it.^^ 

" No  ; but  still  you  manage  to  do  it,  notwithstanding.’^ 
"Never,  upon  my  word  and  honor,”  replied  Mr. 
Guirkie,  " except  when  it’s  forced  on  me.  — There,  now, 
that  hook’s  as  blunt  as  the  very  beetle  ; ” and  he  flung  it 
pettishly  into  the  grate.  — "I  can’t  sit  patiently  by,  and 
hear  the  man  still  contending  that  a red  hackle  is  the 
best  in  May  and  June.  You  wouldn’t  expect  that,  I 
suppose,  eh  ? ” 


76 


MABY  LEE,  OB 


must  be  very  unreasonable/^  yawned  the  doctor, 
his  eyes  half  closed  from  fatigue  and  want  of  sleep,  for 
he  had  been  up  all  night.  ''  Yes,  very  unreasonable/^ 

It  was  actually  presumptuous,  considering  all  my 
experience  to  the  contrary. 

The  doctor  made  an  effort  to  open  his  eyes  and  nod  in 
reply. 

I tried  to  reason  him  out  of  it.  Upon  my  word,  I 
reasoned  with  him  as  mildly  as  I would  with  a child  ; but 
you  might  as  well  reason  with  a madman.  Why,  sir, 
he^s  as  wrong-headed  as  a mule,  that  man,  humble  and 
all  as  he  seems.  He^s  a cheat,  doctor  — that’s  the  whole 
sum  and  substance  of  it.” 

0,  well,”  said  the  doctor,  rousing  himself  a little, 
and  speaking  in  a half  irritable,  half  conciliatory  tone, 
'Met  him  have  his  own  way;  the  point,  after’ all,  is  not 
of  vital  interest  to  anybody,  I suppose.” 

" No,  it’s  of  no  great  consequence,  I allow,”  said 
Uncle  Jerry,  raising  his  spectacles  a second  time  to  his 
forehead,  and  looking  across  the  table  at  his  companion 
in  a manner  more  impressive  than  usual.  "No,  sir,  I ad- 
mit that  freely,  but  the  man  is  exceedingly  presumptuous, 
— remarkably  so,  for  a stranger,  — and  I’m  much  mis- 
taken, doctor,  if  you  yourself,  with  all  your  stoicism, 
would  surrender  to  such  a person  without  protest.  More- 
over, sir,  the  gentleman,  if  he  be  a gentleman,  should 
avoid  provoking  me  to  argument  in  my  own  house,  where 
he  knows  he  has  me  at  a disadvantage.  I say,  doctor, 
it  was  very  indelicate  of  him,  think  what  you  please 
about  it.” 

" And  why  do  you  let  the  man  trouble  you  at  all,  if 
you  think  so  poorly  of  him  ? ” 

"Trouble  me!  0,  I declare,”  exclaimed  Uncle  Jer- 
ry, taking  off  his  spectacles  at  last  and  pitching  them 
on  the  table  with  a very  dissatisfied  air,  for  he  was 
evidently  disappointed  in  the  little  interest  his  friend 
seemed  to  take  in  the  subject.  "Trouble  me  — why,  I 
vow  to  goodness,  he  may  go  to  Halifax  and  fish  for  scul- 
pins  if  he  like,  for  aught  I care  one  way  or  other.  But 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


77 


am  I bound  to  adopt  his  blunders  against  both  reason  and 
conscience  ? am  I ? 

By  no  means  ; why  should  you  ? ’’ 

''Very  well,  then,^^  replied  Mr.  Guirkie,  "that’s  all  I 
want  to  know;  ” and  as  if  there  was  no  more  to  be  said 
on  the  subject,  he  reached  over  again  for  the  spectacles  ; 
" I know  very  well,”  he  added,  as  he  looked  through 
them  before  he  put  them  on,  " I know  it’s  quite  right 
that  every  man  should  choose  whatever  side  of  a ques- 
tion pleases  him  best ; it’s  republican,  and  has  always 
been  my  way,  and  ever  shall  be  as  long  as  I live  ; but 
still  I have  no  hesitation  in  saying  this  much,  doctor, 
that  it’s  morally  impossible  for  the  man  who  never  ties  a 
horn  on  a hare’s  ear,  because  the  natural  fly  don’t  wear 
horns  except  in  July  and  August ; — I say  that  the  man 
who  maintains  that  doctrine,  never  caught  better  than 
graws  or  shiners  in  his  life.  That’s  precisely  what  I 
think  of  it,  and  I shall  take  occasion  to  tell  the  gentle- 
man so  at  our  next  meeting.” 

" Shall  I bring  in  the  breakfast  ? ” said  the  house- 
keeper, opening  the  door  softly,  and  waiting  till  Uncle 
Jerry  had  finished  before  she  interrupted  the  conversa- 
tion. 

" The  breakfast ! ” repeated  the  latter,  checking  at 
once  the  current  of  his  thoughts  and  looking  across  at 
the  doctor,  now  fairly  a-doze  on  the  sofa.  " The  break- 
fast! I declare,  that’s  a fact:  well,  now,  upon  my  word, 
I’m  the  most  selfish,  thoughtless  man  in  the  world. 
There  he  has  been  out  at  sick  calls  all  night,  and  hasn’t 
had  a morsel  yet  to  break  his  fast.  Certainly,”  he  re- 
plied, nodding  at  the  housekeeper,  " certainly,  ma’am, 
send  it  in  by  all  means.” 

When  the  door  closed,  Mr.  Guirkie  again  resumed  his 
employment,  making  occasional  remarks,  now  and  then, 
on  the  quality  of  the  crottel,  hare’s  ear,  tinsel  catgut, 
and  the  other  various  requisites  for  fly-dressing ; and,  at 
length,  having  finished  his  task,  and  put  up  the  materials 
in  their  usual  place,  he  came  round  and  touched  the  sleep- 
er gently  on  the  shoulder, 
t * 


78 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Wake  up/^  said  he,  ''  and  prepare  for  breakfast ; it^s 
just  coming  in.  But  how  is  this,  doctor  ? Why,  dear 
me  ! now  that  Tm  near  you,  one  would  think  you  were 
after  a week^s  march  in  the  Indies.  I declare,  a Sepoy, 
after  a three  days’  drill,  couldn’t  look  worse.  A tedious 
case,  I suppose.” 

Very,”  muttered  the  doctor  ; very  bad,  indeed.” 

Don’t  doubt  it  in  the  least ; you  look  like  it.” 

Shocking.” 

I declare  ; and  it  detained  you  since  midnight  ? ” 

Yes,  I left  here  a few  minutes  after  twelve,  with 
Father  John,”  he  replied,  yawning  and  rubbing  his  eyes. 

You  heard  the  dog  bark  at  the  time  under  your  cham- 
ber window,  I suppose  — I was  afraid  he  might  have  dis- 
turbed you.” 

Heard  him  ! why,  he  set  all  the  dogs  in  the  parish 
a-barking,  and  they  didn’t  stop  for  an  hour  after.  I de- 
clare he’s  the  most  unreasonable  animal  in  that  respect  I 
ever  heard,  at  home  or  abroad.  Still,  it’s  a conscientious 
matter  with  him,  I suppose,  and  we  shouldn’t  blame  him. 
Hah,  indeed ! and  so  it  was  a very  shocking  case.” 

Fourteen  of  a crew  cast  ashore  on  Ballyhernan 
Beach,”  said  Dr.  Camberwell,  raising  up  his  sleepy  eyes 
sympathetically  to  those  of  his  venerable  companion. 

Fourteen  of  a crew  ! 0,  may  the  Lord  have  mercy 

on  them  ! ” exclaimed  Uncle  Jerry,  in  pious  astonish- 
ment. That’s  awful.” 

A schooner  from  New  York,  bound  for  Dublin,”  con- 
tinued the  doctor.  She  foundered  off  Tory  Island  four 
days  ago.  The  crew,  with  the  exception  of  the  first 
mate,  who  went  down  with*  the  vessel,  took  to  the  long 
boat,  and  after  drifting  about  all  that  time  were  at  length 
driven  ashore  last  night  on  Ballyhernan  Strand.” 

May  the  Lord  protect  us  ! ” exclaimed  Uncle  Jerry 
again,  slapping  his  knees  with  the  palms  of  his  hands, 
and  looking  terrified  at  the  doctor  — all  dead  ? ” 

No,  no,  not  all.  Six  of  them  are  still  living ; the 
rest  were  dead  before  we  reached  the  shore.” 


THE  YAIJKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


79 


The  Lord  have  mercy  on  them/^ 

Were  it  not  for  the  unwearied  attention  and  devoted 
charity  of  Miss  Lee,  the  light-keeper's  daughter,  I verily 
believe  every  soul  of  them  had  perished," 

''Perished!  — after  reaching  the  shore  — that's  terri- 
ble to  think  of." 

" Well,  under  God,  she  was  the  principal  means  of 
saving  their  lives." 

" The  angel  I " 

"Upon  my  word,  I believe  she's  more  of  an  angel  than 
any  thing  else." 

" She  is  one,  I tell  you  — there's  no  doubt  of  it  what- 
ever— you  can  see  it  in  her  face." 

" So  you  have  seen  her,  then.  I tliought  you  had 
never  called  at  the  lighthouse  since  this  new  keeper 
came." 

"Neither  have  I.  'Twas  at  the  chapel  I saw  her  — 
and  that  only  for  a second  or  two.  She  was  kneeling 
before  the  picture  of  the  Virgin,  and  I declare,  glancing 
from  one  to  the  other,  I could  hardly  tell  which  was  the 
loveliei*.  I have  never  forgotten  that  face  since  for  a 
single  day  — it  haunts  me  sleeping  and  waking ; every 
feature  of  it  seems  as  familiar  as  my  own." 

" It  was  really  one  of  the  most  beautiful  sights  I ever 
saw,"  continued  the  doctor,  " her  kneeling  there  on  the 
cabin  floor,  administering  relief  to  the  poor  sufferers. 
She  looked  to  me  the  very  image  of  a young  Sister  of 
Mercy  I used  to  see  long  ago,  gliding  round  the  sick  beds 
in  the  Dublin  Hospital." 

" So  full  of  piety,  and  so  gentle  ! " said  Uncle  Jerry. 

" Yes,  once,  as  she  touched  the  parched  lips  of  the 
little  cabin  boy  with  a spoonful  of  wine  and  water,  her 
tears  fell  on  his  face,  and  it  was  impossible  — " 

" I -know  it,"  said  Uncle  Jerry  ; "it  was  impossible  to 
look  at  her,  without  — hem  — without  feeling  — hem  — 
tliat  is,  I mean  it  was  very  affecting." 

" The  warm  drops  as  they  fell  made  him  raise  his  eyes 
to  her  face,  and  then  such  a look  of  love  and  gratitude 
as  he  gave  her  I never  saw  on  human  face  before." 


80 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


''  It^s  the  goodness  of  God,  doctor,  that  sends  ns  such 
creatures,  now  and  again,  to  reconcile  us  to  our  miserable 
humanity. 

Certainly. 

We  should  otherwise  forget  our  destiny  altogether.’^ 

No  doubt  of  it.” 

He  scatters  them  over  the  dark  world,  here  and 
there,  to  brighten  and  beautify  it,  as  he  scatters  the  stars 
over  the  clouded  heavens.” 

But  to  return  to  the  sufferers,”  said  the  doctor,  afraid 
Mr.  Guirkie  should  fly  off  into  one  of  his  rhapsodies  ; 

one  poor  fellow,  a negro,  was  all  but  dead  when  I 
left.” 

Dear  me  ! all  but  dead  ! ” 

Yes,  and  had  seven  of  his  toes  broken  besides.” 

Lord  save  us  ! — seven  toes  broken  ! — that’s  fright- 
ful — seven  toes  ! ” 

Four  on  one  foot  and  three  on  the  other.” 

Most  shocking  ! — and  what  makes  it  still  worse, 
he’s  of  the  despised  race;  but  the  rest — where  are 
they  ? ” 

In  the  cabin.” 

What  ! — all  huddled  up  together,  the  living  with 
the  dead  ? ” 

Why,  there  was  no  other  place  to  put  them  — no 
house,  you  know,  within  a mile  of  the  strand.” 

0,  no  ! of  course  not ; why  should  there  ? ” exclaimed 
Uncle  Jerry,  not  a little  irritated  at  the  disappointment. 

Why  should  there  ? No,  no,  there’s  never  anything 
where  it  ought  to  be,  sir.  I believe  in  my  soul,  sir,  if 
there  had  been  a house  there,  not  a shipwreck  would 
have  happened  within  leagues  of  it.” 

Don’t  doubt  it  in  the  least,”  assentea  the  doctor. 

Cross  purposes,  sir ; that’s  it,  cross  purposes  — 
every  thing  in  creation  pulling  against  every  other  thing. 
It’s  outrageous,  sir — no  house  there,  where  of  all  places 
in  the  world  it  ought  to  be  — I declare  to  my  conscience 
it’s  insufferable.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


81 


I know  it/^  said  the  doctor;  it^s  too  bad,  to  be 
sure,  but  so  it  chances  to  be.^^ 

''Chances!  nonsense! — there's  no  such  thing  as 
chance  — don^t  believe  in  that.^^  And,  clasping  his 
hands  round  his  knee,  he  lifted  up  his  little  leg,  and  com- 
menced rocking  away  in  his  chair  — a habit  he  had  when 
any  thing  troubled  him.  He  asked  no  more  questions 
either  ; what  he  heard  already  supplied  him  with  materials 
enough  for  a picture  — and  he  drew  it,  and  gazed  at  it, 
till  the  tears  fell  in  big  drops  on  the  carpet.  He  saw  the 
poor  wrecked  sailors,  stretched  on  the  damp  floor  of  the 
warren-keeper^ s hut,  as  plainly  as  if  he  had  been  there 
in  person  standing  over  them. 

" Well,  there^s  no  use  in  fretting  about  it,^^  ho  said,  at 
length,  letting  his  leg  fall,  and  looking  out  at  the  rain 
pattering  against  the  window  panes  ; "it  can’t  be  helped, 
I suppose.  They’ll  die,  every  soul  of  them,  for  want  of 
good  fresh  air  and  kindly  treatment.  I know  they  will. 
Can  nothing  be  done  ? I wish  to  Heaven  I was  there 
myself ; but  where’s  the  use  of  wishing  ? The  doctor 
would  never  consent  to  it  in  such  a storm  as  this.  So 
here,  then,  I must  wait  patiently,  and  make  the  best  of 
it.  As  for  that  negro,  he’ll  die  ; there’s  no  doubt  of  it 
in  this  world : he’ll  die,  just  because  he  is  a negro,  and 
no  one  to  care  for  him.  As  for  Mary  Lee,  she  may  be  a 
tender-hearted,  gentle  creature  as  ever  lived,  and  no  one 
who  ever  saw  her  once  could  think  otherwise  ; but  she’s  a 
timid,  fawny  thing,  and  won’t  venture  near  enough  to 
wet  his  lips  with  a spoonful  of  sangaree,  or  whisper  a 
word  in  his  ear,  to  keep  his  heart  from  sinking.  Ay, 
that’s  the  effect  of  a black  skin  — always,  always.  It 
was  just  so  in  St.  Domingo  and  Alabama,  and  all  over 
the  world.  But  never  mind,  never  mind  ; there’s  a good 
time  coming.  It  won’t  be  so  in  heaven  ; ” and  Mr. 
Guirkie  rubbed  his  hands  smartly  together,  and  chuckled 
at  the  thought  ; " no,  no  ; that’s  one  comfort,  at  least ; it 
won’t  be  so  in  heaven.” 

" Why,  dear  me  ! there’s  the  doctor  fast  asleep  ! ” ex- 
claimed the  housekeeper,  laying  down  the  tray  with  the 


82 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


breakfast  on  the  table.  ''  Please  wake  him  up,  Mr. 
Guirkie  ; he  needs  some  refreshment,  and  should  take 
it  hot.’^ 

''Never  mind  him;^^  replied  Uncle  Jerry,  "never  mind 
him.  Go  away,  Mrs.  Motherly,  if  you  please,  and  don^t 
jar  the  door.  1^11  wake  him  the  next  time  he  turns 
over  ; and,  wiping  his  spectacles  with  the  tail  of  his 
morning  gown,  he  commenced  reading  a newspaper  that 
lay  on  the  table. 

Now,  it  happened  the  paper  was  a week  old  or  more, 
and  Mr.  Guirkie  had  read  it  over,  advertisements  and  all, 
a good  half  dozen  times  already.  For  being  the  only 
paper  taken  at  the  cottage,  he  always  tried,  as  he  said 
himself,  to  make  the  most  of  it.  It  was  not,  therefore, 
with  a view  either  to  entertainment  or  information  that 
he  snapped  it  up  so  suddenly  as  he  did,  but  merely  to 
divert  his  mind  from  thinking  of  the  wrecked  sailors,  and 
particularly  the  negro  with  the  broken  toes.  Mr.  Guirkie, 
as  the  reader  may  have  suspected,  was  gentle  and  full  of 
tender  s^^mpathies,  and  when  a case  with  any  thing  pecu- 
liarly melancholy  in  it,  like  the  one  in  question,  chanced 
to  get  hold  of  his  heart,  he  never  could  manage  very  well 
to  shake  it  out  of  it.  It  was  only  then,  with  the  desper- 
ate hope  of  excluding  from  his  imagination  the  picture  he 
had  drawn  so  vividly  but  a few  minutes  before,  that  he 
clutched  the  paper  so  vigorously  between  his  hands  and 
ran  his  eye  so  rapidly  over  the  print.  It  happened,  how- 
ever, notwithstanding  the  effort  he  made,  that  his  success 
was  by  no  means  complete,  for  he  soon  began  a sort  of 
low,  dry  whistle,  without  tune  or  music  in  it,  and  evidently 
intended  to  help  the  newspaper.  When  he  had  read  down 
half  a column  or  more  with  this  accompaniment,  he  found 
it,  as  he  always  found  it  before,  to  be  a total  failure,  and 
that,  do  what  he  would,  the  picture  kept  always  breaking 
in  upon  him.  At  last,  unable  to  resist  any  longer,  he 
flung  the  newspaper  on  the  floor,  and  starting  up  in  a 
sort  of  desperation,  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  his 
slippers  clattering  the  while  against  his  heels,  and  his 
hands  as  usual  clasped  behind  his  back. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


83 


Mr.  Guirkie/^  said  the  housekeeper,  opening  the 
door  gently. 

What/’  said  Mr.  Guirkie,  turning  on  his  step,  and 
throwing  up  his  spectacles  from  his  forehead  till  they 
were  lost  in  his  bushy,  gray  hair  ; what’s  the  matter  ? ” 
Lanty  Hanlon’s  come  for  more  of  that  medicine,  sir, 
and  says  the  child’s  doin  bravely  ; and,  sir,  he  brought 
ye  the  other  wing  of  the  wild  duck.” 

''Mrs.  Motherly,”  said  Uncle  Jerry,  approaching  the 
door,  and  drawing  himself  primly  up,  " I’m  engaged, 
ma’am.” 

" Yes,  sir,  but  — ” 

" Well,  but,  ma’am.  I’ll  have  no  buts  ; I’m  not  to  be 
imposed  on.  That  fellow  has  had  more  gin  already  than 
would  cure  half  the  parish  ; quit  the  room,  if  3^ou  please, 
and  tell  that  scoundrel  to  quit  the  house.” 

Again  Mr.  Guirkie  turned  to  the  window,  and  locked 
out  on  the  stormy  sky,  muttering  to  himself  all  the  while 
in  short,  ejaculatory  sentences.  At  first  they  were  low 
and  hollow,  but  grew  more  audible  in  proportion  as  the 
picture  before  his  mind’s  eye  grew  darker. 

" 0,  nonsense  ! ” said  he  at  last.  " Nonsense  ! non- 
sense ! there’s  no  use  whatever  in  attempting  it.  And 
what’s  more,  there  never  was  any  use.  It  was  just  so 
always,  just  the  same  old  story  over  and  over  again  ; and 
I verily  believe  I’m  a greater  fool  now  than  I was  twenty 
years  ago.  Last  week  I couldn’t  rest  till  I saw  that 
distressed  widow,  just  as  if  it  were  my  business  to  con- 
sole widows  — just  as  if  it  ought  to  concern  me  a copper 
whether  her  landlord  ejected  her  gr  not.  But  the  ex- 
planation of  it  all  is,  Mr.  Jeremiah  Guirkie,  — since  that’s 
the  name  you  like  to  go  by,  — the  explanation  of  it  all^ 
is,  that  you’re  an  incorrigible  simpleton.  Yes,  sir,  that’s 
the  short  and  long  of  it.  And  I saw  that  very  word, 
last  Friday,  on  the  doctor’s  lips,  when  I gave  Lanty  the 
half  crown  for  the  hackle,  as  plain  as  the  light  there, 
only  he  didn’t  let  it  drop.  Well,  he  thought  so,  of  course  ; 
why  shouldn’t  he  ? Forever  meddling  with  other  people’s 
business,  and  neglecting  my  own.  And  now,  here  comes 


84 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


this  shipwreck  just  at  the  heels  of  the  Weeks  affair  to 
worry  me  again.  Well,  all  we  can  say  about  it  is,  let 
the  negro  die  — why  not  ? he^s  not  the  first  that  died 
neglected.  And  why  should  it  concern  you  ? he  con- 
tinued, stopping  short  and  looking  at  himself  in  the 
mirror  above  the  mantel;  ''why  should  it  concern 
you,  sir,  one  way  or  other  ? Psaugh  1 YoiPre  mighty 
charitable,  ar’n^t  you  ? Take  a friend^s  advice,  sir,  and 
mind  your  own  business  : youHl  have  plenty  to  do  ; ay, 
and  if  the  truth  were  told,  more  than  ever  you  did  do  in 
your  life,  sir.  Of  all  the  people  in  the  world,  sir,  youYe 
not  the  very  man  expected  to  keep  life  in  these  sailors, 
or  solder  new  toes  on  that  unfortunate  negro. 

Here  the  soliloquy  was  interrupted  by  the  doctor 
speaking  in  his  sleep.  Mr.  Guirkie  turned  his  head 
slowly  around,  and  stood  in  a twisted  position  for  a 
second  or  two,  looking  at  the  dreamer,  and  waiting  to 
catch  the  next  words.  There  was  a wonderful  deal  of 
benevolence  in  his  face  as  it  thus  appeared  in  profile. 
The  little  round  blue  eyes,  so  full  of  soft  and  gentle 
expression  — an  expression  which  his  recent  effort  to 
steel  his  heart  against  the  influence  of  pity  had  not  abated 
in  the  least ; the  small  mouth,  with  the  corners  turned 
slightly  up,  like  Uncle  Toby^s  when  listening  to  Corporal 
Trim  ; the  smooth,  un wrinkled,  rosy  cheeks  ; and  stiff 
gray  hair  standing  on  end,  — all  tended  to  convince  the 
beholder  of  Mr.  Guirkie^s  eccentric  habits  and  kindly 
nature. 

Again  the  doctor  muttered  something,  and  then  Mr. 
Guirkie  moved  gently  jover,  and  bent  his  head  down  to 
catch  the  words. 

" The  negro  ! the  negro  ! said  the  sleeper. 

" ThaPs  it  ^ — the  negro,  of  course, repeated  Uncle 
Jerry.  "He  must  die  — that^s  what  you  mean.^^ 

" Mary  Lee,^^  continued  the  dreamer,  " warm  blankets  ! 
— the  decoction  ! and  abruptly  turning  on  his  side,  he 
concluded  with  a groan  that  told  how  fatigued  he  was 
after  the  labors  of  the  previous  night. 

" Very  well,^^  said  Mr.  Guirkie,  kicking  off  his  slippers. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


85 


that  puts  an  end  to  it.  I have  no  longer  a shadow  of 
doubt  about  my  obligations.  It^s  evidently  my  duty  to 
go  down  and  visit  them.  That^s  as  plain  as  the  sun, 
and  the  doctor’s  dream  is  clearly  providential  ; ” and  so, 
sitting  down  on  the  chair,  he  put  on  his  shoes,  and  then 
drew  over  his  leggings  from  the  footstool.  As  for  the 
rain,”  he  continued,  looking  out  of  the  window,  I don’t 
care  a farthing  about  it,  one  way  or  other.  Neither  the 
heat  of  the  Indies  nor  the  cold  of  the  Canadas  has  taken 
a feather  out  of  me  yet.  I’m  just  as  good  for  all  practical 
purposes  as  I ever  was.  To  be  sure  it  rains  and  blows 
hard  and  fast ; but  I am  no  sugar  loaf  to  melt  in  the  rain, 
nor  a jack  straw  to  be  blown  away  with  the  wind.” 

Talking  in  this  strain,  he  put  on  his  leggings.  But  he 
put  them  on,  as  he  always  did,  in  a very  careless,  slovenly 
sort  of  way  — omitting  a button  here  and  a button  there 
on  his  way  up  to  the  knees.  This  time  especially  he  was 
in  somewhat  of  a hurry,  and  his  thoughts  had  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  the  buttons.  Next  he  opened  his 
desk  as  silently  as  possible,  and  took  out  what  seemed  to 
be  a pocket  book,  looking  round  stealthily  at  the  doctor 
as  he  secured  it  under  his  vest,  and  finally  retired  to 
his  chamber  to  don  his  seal  skin  cap  and  drab  surtout 
with  the  double  cape,  a riding  dress  he  never  laid  aside 
summer  or  winter,  and  from  which  no  one  in  the  neigh- 
borhood ever  thought  of  dissociating  the  idea  of  Uncle 
Jerry  Guirkie.  These  hasty  preparations  concluded,  he 
stepped  on  tiptoe  from  the  parlor,  and  closed  the  door 
noiselessly  behind  him,  leaving  the  doctor  sleeping 
soundly  on  the  sofa,  and  the  breakfast  cooling  beside 
him  on  the  table. 

On  reaching  the  housekeeper’s  door,  however,  great  as 
his  hurry  was,  he  paused  and  seemed  to  deliberate.  He 
was  thinking  whether  he  should  apprise  her  of  his  intended 
journey,  or  steal  out  unobserved.  There  was  danger  both 
ways.  If  he  told  her,  she  might  wake  up  the  doctor  and 
detain  him  ; if  he  did  not,  his  absence  in  such  stormy 
weather  might  occasion  alarm  for  his  safety.  Three  or 
four  times  he  coughed  and  hemmed  slightly  at  the 
8 


86 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


threshold,  bringing  his  knuckle  each  time  within  an  inch  of 
the  door,  but  as  often  drawing  it  back.  At  length,  how- 
ever, the  fear  of  giving*  alarm  predominated,  and  sum- 
moning courage,  he  knocked  — but  it  was  a knock  in 
which  there  was  no  sign  of  authority  — or  rather  it  was 
the  gentle  tap  of  a child  coming  to  beg  alms  at  a gentle- 
man^s  back  door. 

Mrs.  Motherly  ! said  he,  putting  his  lips  to  the 
key-hole  and  speaking  under  his  breath,  Mrs.  Moth- 
erly ! Tm  going  out  a little  ; but  you  needn^t  disturb 
yourself.  I don’t  require  your  services  in  the  least  — 
not  in  any  possible  way  whatever.” 

But  Mrs  Motherly  knew  better.  She  had  lived  now 
nearly  five  years  in  the  family,  and  understood  Mr.  Guirkie 
well,  and  all  about  him.  Her  long  residence  and  her  well- 
known  fidelity  gave  her  a respectable  claim  on  his  con- 
sideration, which  indeed,  however  inconvenient  he  often 
found  it,  he  never  failed  to  acknowledge.  For  a long  time 
after  she  came  into  the  family,  Mrs.  Motherly  kept  con- 
tinually remonstrating  with  Mr.  Guirkie  on  his  foolish 
ways,  as  she  loved  to  call  them,  and  frequently,  when 
provoked,  would  venture  even  to  scold  him  sharply,  but 
still  in  a respectful  and  affectionate  manner  — sometimes 
for  his  reckless  neglect  of  his  health,  sometimes  for 
spending  his  money  on  objects  undeserving  of  charity, 
(for  Uncle  Jerry  had  the  habit  of  slipping  a sixpence 
now  and  again  to  the  beggars  whom  Mrs.  Motherly 
thought  it  her  duty  to  drive  from  the  door,)  but  most 
of  all  for  his  inveterate  disregard  of  his  dress  and  per- 
sonal appearance.  Of  late  years,  however,  she  had  given 
him  up  in  despair,  relinquishing  all  hopes  of  ever  being 
able  to  correct  him,  and  came  at  last  to  the  wise  conclu- 
sion that  destined  as  she  was  to  remain  a fixture  in  the 
place,  wh}^  like  a prudent  woman,  she  would  let  him 
have  his  own  way,  and  try  to  do  the  best  she  could 
for  him.  Still  there  was  one  little  peculiarity  in  Mr. 
Guirkie’s  conduct,  especially  for  the  last  year  or  so, 
which  Mrs.  Motherly  sometimes  found  it  rather  hard  to 
put  up  with  ; and  that  wasj  his  want  of  regard  for  her 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


87 


feelings  in  presence  of  third  parties  — the  doctor  of 
course  excepted  ; this  was  particularly  the  case  when 
company  happened  to  be  at  the  house,  or  when  he 
chanced  to  come  across  her  any  where  beyond  the  walls 
of  the  cottage.  Alone  with  her  at  home,  he  was  as 
tractable  as  a child  ; for  the  fact  was,  — and  it  may  as 
well  be  told  now  as  again,  — the  fact  was,  he  feared 
Mrs.  Motherly.  It’s  no  doubt  a lamentable  admission, 
but  not  the  less  true  for  all  that.  And  the  reason  was 
clear  : Mrs.  Motherly  was  a woman  of  such  excellent 
qualities  in  her  way,  that  Uncle  Jerry  could  not  help 
entertaining  a great  respect  for  her  ; then  she  took  such 
a lively  interest  in  his  affairs  that  he  felt  she  had  a good 
right  to  his  confidence,  and  he  yielded  it  accordingly  ; 
and  last  of  all,  with  all  her  humility  she  had  such  force 
of  character,  that  he  generally  found  it  easier  to  submit 
than  quarrel  with  her.  Whether  our  readers  of  the 
sterner  sex  — and  we  write  down  the  word  sex  in  order 
to  save  it  from  growing  entirely  obsolete  — whether 
they  shall  ever  agree  to  adopt  Mr.  Guirkie^s  rule  of  con- 
duct in  this  respect  as  the  safest  and  the  wisest  is  more 
than  we  dare  predict ; still,  vre  might  venture  to  say, 
judging  from  the  present  aspect  of  things,  and  making 
all  necessary  allowance  for  the  progressive  spirit  of  the 
age,  that  such  a revolution  in  the  ordinary  relations 
of  life  would  not,  after  all,  be  so  very  extraordinary  an 
event. 

In  the  house,  and  alone  with  Mrs.  Motherly,  Uncle 
Jerry,  as  we  have  said  already,  was  generally  as  tract- 
able as  a child.  He  would  turn  back  at  her  bidding, 
were  his  very  foot  in  the  stirrup,  and  sit  down  to  let 
her  sew  a button  on  his  shirt  or  tie  a more  becoming 
knot  on  his  cravat  — nay,  sometimes,  when  hard  pressed, 
would  hand  her  his  purse  for  safe  keeping  — a precau- 
tion, by  the  way,  she  generally  took  when  she  suspected 
him  of  going  up  to  the  Blind  Fiddler^s  in  the  Cairn,  or 
down  to  the  widow  with  the  three  twins  at  Bally mastocker. 
From  home,  however,  or  in  presence  of  strangers,  he 
was  quite  another  man.  On  such  occasions,  his  whole 


88 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


bearing  towards  her  underwent  a change.  He  would 
draw  himself  up  to  the  very  highest  stretch  of  his  dig- 
nity, address  her  in  a dictatorial  tone,  and  otherwise 
deport  himself  towards  her  as  if  he  regarded  her  in  no 
other  light  than  that  of  an  ordinary  waiting  woman. 
When  any  one  about  the  table  chanced  to  make  hon- 
orable mention  of  Mrs.  Motherly,  — which  indeed  those 
who  were  aware  of  Uncle  Jerry^s  little  weakness  often  did 
to  plague  him,  — it  was  amusing  to  see  how  the  old  man 
would  pout  his  lips,  throw  himself  back,  and  admit,  with 
a patronizing  air,  that  she  was  — really  was  an  honest, 
trustworthy  servant  — had  her  little  whims,  to  be  sure, 
as  every  one  had  — but,  nevertheless,  was  a right  trusty 
and  obedient  housekeeper. 

This  change  in  Mr.  Guirkie^s  conduct  towards  her, 
Mrs.  Motherly  was  a long  time  unable  to  account  for, 
and  the  anxiety  she  felt  about  the  cause  of  it  was  far 
more  painful  to  her  than  the  thing  itself.  The  secret  of 
all  was,  however,  — and  the  reader  must  be  told  it  by  all 
means, — the  secret  was,  that  Uncle  Jerry’s  friends 
were  in  the  habit  of  plaguing  him  about  Mrs.  Motherly  ; 
that  is  to  say,  about  certain  little  leanings  in  that  direc- 
tion. They  made  no  direct,  specific  charges  — not  one 
— but  kept  forever  indulging  in  sly  winks  and  innuendoes, 
which  mortified  the  poor  man  much  more  than  plain, 
downright  accusations.  Amongst  these  friends,  Mr. 
Thomas  Petersham,  or  Captain  Tom  Petersham,  as  he  was 
generally  called,  held  a conspicuous  place.  The  captain, 
as  the  reader  may  have  seen  already,  was  a good  natured, 
jolly  sort  of  a man  as  one  might  care  to  meet  with 
any  where.  He  cracked  a good  joke,  rode  a good  horse, 
kept  a good  table,  sang  a good  song,  sailed  the  fastest 
yacht  between  Fanit  Point  and  the  Skerries,  and  never 
looked  or  felt  happier  in  his  life  than  when  he  had  Uncle 
Jerry  at  his  elbow  to  hob-nob  with  him  after  dinner. 
This  gentleman  had  so  often  plagued  Mr.  Guirkie,  — and 
he  did  it  in  a quiet,  provoking  way  too,  his  eyes  spar- 
kling the  while  with  the  spirit  of  the  grape  and  mischief 
together,  — that  the  good  little  man  at  last  thought  it 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


89 


prudent  to  assume  a cold  and  distant  reserve  towards  his 
respectable  housekeeper  in  the  presence  of  strangers,  in 
order,  we  suppose,  to  offset  disagreeable  suspicions. 
Now,  of  all  men  in  the  world,  Mr.  Guirkie  would  be  the 
last  to  think  of  such  an  attachment  The  thing  was  en- 
tirely out  of  the  course  of  his  thoughts  ; or  if  the  idea 
ever  could  by  any  chance  cross  his  mind,  he  would,  very 
probably,  walk  up  to  the  looking-glass,  and  laugh  him- 
self out  of  countenance  for  entertaining  it  for  an  instant. 
He  was  now  sixty  years  of  age,  but  as  hale  and  hearty 
as  he  was  at  twenty-five  — a wealthy,  happy  old  bach- 
elor, who  had  travelled  half  the  world  over  — been  in  all 
sorts  of  society  — studied  men  and  books  till  he  grew 
tired  of  both,  and  at  last  settled  down  quietly  at  Green- 
mount,  resolved  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  and 
his  money  as  far  away  from  city  life  as  possible,  with- 
out the  remotest  idea  of  ever  changing  his  condition 
of  life. 

As  for  Mrs.  Motherly,  poor  soul  ! if  the  thought  of  a 
nearer  or  holier  relation  between  them  than  that  of  an 
honest,  faithful  servant  to  a kind,  indulgent  master,  ever 
did  enter  her  mind,  why,  it  wasn^t  so  much  to  be 
wondered  at,  after  all.  She  never  looked  on  herself  as 
an  ordinary  house  servant.  She  was  above  that,' both 
by  early  education  and  household  accomplishments,  and 
she  knew  it ; and  every  one  else  knew  it  just  as  well,  the 
moment  she  made  her  appearance.  It  was  as  plain  as 
the  alphabet.  Her  clean  white  apron,  her  neat,  well 
plaited  cap,  her  bunch  of  polished  keys  at  her  girdle, 
and  above  all,  her  intelligent,  respectable  countenance, 
bespoke  at  once  her  authority  and  the  right  she  had  to 
exercise  it.  And  so  Uncle  Jerry  and  Mrs.  Motherly 
lived  very  happily  together,  each  well  satisfied  with  the 
other,  the  latter  yielding  a reasonable  obedience,  and  the 
former  exercising  a reasonable  authority.  If  any  thing 
ever  did  happen,  once  in  a long  time,  to  create  a little  dry- 
ness between  them,  it  was  sure  to  be  that  unfortunate 
habit  he  had  of  treating  her  unkindly  before  company.  In 
vain  did  she  try  to  shame  him  out  of  it,  when  she  had 
8* 


90 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


him  to  herself  all  alone  of  a quiet  evening  after  tea  — he 
with  his  flies  and  she  with  her  stocking  sitting  cosily  to- 
gether ; in  vain  did  she  draw  on  his  nice  sense  of  pro- 
priety to  rebuke  him,  — nay,  sometimes,  when  more  than 
commonly  provoked,  actually  charge  him  to  his  face  with 
having  taken  an  ungentlemanly  advantage  of  her  posi- 
tion to  mortify  her.  All  was  in  vain.  To  every  com- 
plaint she  made  on  that  head.  Uncle  Jerry,  turning  away 
his  face  to  hide  his  confusion,  and  making  many  a hem 
and  hah,  to  clear  his  throat,  would  invariably  acknowledge 
that  it  might  appear  strange,  but  he  had  his  own  reasons 
for  it.  This,  indeed,  was  all  the  explanation  he  ever 
gave,  and  do  what  she  would,  all  Mrs.  Motherly  could 
ever  get  out  of  him.  But  to  return. 

Mrs.  Motherly/^  whispered  Uncle  Jerry  through  the 
key-hole  ; Mrs.  Motheiiy,^^  he  repeated  in  a hard 
under-breath,  Fm  going  out  a little,  but  you  needu^t 
trouble  yourself  in  the  least  about  it ; and  please  tell 
the  doctor,  when  he  wakes,  that  Fll  return  presently. 

But  the  good  woman  turiied  the  key  in  the  lock  before 
he  had  quite  done  speaking,  and  presented  herself  be- 
fore him,  her  left  hand  pressed  against  her  plump  side, 
and  a look  of  astonishment,  half  affected,  half  real, 
pictured  in  her  face. 

Uncle  Jerry  raised  himself  suddenly  up  from  his 
stooping  posture,  and  gazed  at  Mrs.  Motherly  without 
saying  a word. 

Well,^^  at  length  said  the  latter,  breaking  silence, 
what^s  the  matter  ? 

Why  ! responded  Mr.  Guirkie,  what  is  the  mat- 
ter? IFs  no  harm  to  go  out,  I suppose. 

No,  but  what  does  it  mean  ? inquired  the  matron, 
surveying  the  diminutive  figure  of  Mr.  Guirkie  from  head 
to  foot ; what  does  it  mean,  in  such  weather  as  this  ? 

Well,  that^s  it ; it  may  look  a little  odd,  to  be  sure, 
but  I can^t  help  it.^^ 

Why,  good  gracious,  look  at  the  rain  streaming 
down  the  window.  Is  it  crazy  ye  are,  to  venture  out  in 
such  a hurricane  ? 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


91 


**  0,  Ws  not  so  bad  as  that,  Mrs.  Motherly.^' 

Bad  ! — it^s  a downright  waterspout. 

Well,  never  mind  — it  won’t  signify.  I’ll  return  as 
soon  as  possible.” 

And  where,  may  I ask,  sir,  do  you  propose  to  go  ? ” 

^^Go?  ” 

Yes  ; it  can’t  surely  be  any  thing  less  than  life  and 
death  that’d  bring  you  out  such  a day  as  this,  after  the 
racking  cough  you  had  yesterday.” 

Well,  that’s  just  it,”  replied  Uncle  Jerry  — it’s  a 
very  serious  affair  ; but  you  need  feel  no  concern  about 
my  catching  cold.  I’m  now  very  prudent,  I assure  you, 
in  that  respect ; ” and  he  buttoned  another  button  in  the 
breast  of  his  coat. 

Prudent  ! the  Lord  be  about  us,  and  save  us  ; just 
listen  to  that  ! Well,  may  I never  do  harm,  if  that  don’t 
beat  Banagher  out  and  out.  Prudent,  humph  ! were  you 
prudent  when  you  gave  your  new  under-coat  to  the  Blind 
Fiddler  last  week,  and  came  home  to  me  shivering,  like 
an  old  pensioner  in  an  ague  fit  — were  you  ? ” 

Hush  ! hush!  — you  needn’t  speak  so  loud,  Mrs. 
Motherly,”  he  replied,  glancing  at  the  parlor  door  ; ''  I 
acknowledge  I was  wrong  in  that  instance.” 

And  were  you  prudent  when  you  gave  the  five 
shilling  piece  to  that  villain  of  an  old  soldier,  Manus 
McGillaway,  till  he  got  drunk  and  stole  six  of  my 
geese,  that  the  like  of  them  weren’t  to  be  seen  in  the 
parish.” 

''  And  how  could  I foresee  — ” 

Yes,  sir,  but  you  did,  though  ; you  knew  in  your 
heart  and  soul  he  was  a thief,  and  especially  when  he  got 
drunk,  that  nothing  was  too  hot  or  heavy  for  him. 
You  knew  that  well,  sir.  And  what’s  more,  Mr. 
Guirkie,  you  encourage  the  villain  in  his  thievery,  to 
my  own  knowledge.” 

I encourage  him  ? ” 

**  Yes,  sir,  you.  When  Captain  Petersham  sent  him 
that  wet  day  last  week  for  his  coat  to  Castle  Gregory, 
with  a token  to  his  sister,  it  was  six  bottles  of  brandy  he 


92 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


asked  for,  instead  of  the  coat,  and  you  gave  him  a 
shilling  out  of  your  own  very  fingers,  for  playing  the 
trick 

I declare  ! exclaimed  Uncle  Jerry  again,  after  a 
momenUs  reflection  ; I believe  I must  admit  — 

0,  admit  — you^re  very  good  at  admissions  ; but 
whereas  the  use  of  them  ? Ar’n^t  you  just  as  bad  as 
ever,  after  all  your  promises  and  admissions  ? God  help 
me,  any  way  ; my  hearths  broke  with  you  ; so  it  is/^ 

Indeed/^  replied  Uncle  Jerry,  tapping  his  lips  with 
the  but  of  his  riding  whip,  and  looking  as  crest-fallen  as 
a boy  caught  stealing  apples,  ^Gndeed,  it’s  nothing  but 
the  truth  ; I’m  very  troublesome,  I suppose,  to  every 
body  I have  any  dealings  with.  But  you’ll  excuse  me, 
Mrs.  Motherly  ; it’s  time  I was  gone,  if  I mean  to  go  at 
all ; ” and  he  began  to  sidle  off  towards  the  hall  door. 

Stop,”  cried  Mrs.  Motherly,  as  he  lifted  the  latch  ; 
you’re  not  going  out  that  way,  are  you  ? ” 

‘‘  What  wa}^  ? ” 

Why,  look  at  your  leggings.” 

‘‘  My  leggings  ! ” 

Yes,  don’t  you  see  you’ve  buttoned  them  on  the 
wrong  legs  ! ” 

That’s  nonsense  I — the  wrong  legs  ! ” 

Nonsense  or  not,  it’s  the  fact,  nevertheless  ; the 
tongues  are  both  on  the  inside,  and  the  buttons  too.” 

'MYell,  I declare,”  said  Uncle  Jerry,  turning  his  little 
leg  round  and  round,  as  if  seeking  for  some  pretext  on 
which  to  justify  the  blunder;  I declare,”  he  repeated, 
I declare  upon  my  word  and  honor,  it’s  very  strange, 
but  surely  I must  have  been  asleep,  when  I put  them 
on.” 

0,  you  needn’t  be  trying  to  make  any  excuses  about 
it  — it’s  just  of  a piece  with  all  the  rest,”  said  Mrs.  Moth- 
erly, handing  him  a chair  to  sit  on,  while  she  knelt  down 
to  adjust  the  difficulty;  ''that’s  the  first  time  you  but- 
toned your  own  leggings  these  five  years,”  she  continued, 
and  you  buttoned  them  wrong.  It  ought  to  be  a les- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


93 


son  to  you,  Mr.  Guirkie  ; it  ought  to  teach  you  that  you 
can  do  nothing  right. 

“ Well/^  replied  Mr.  Guirkie,  with  a little  more  irrita- 
tion in  the  tone  of  his  voice  than  usual,  ''  I^m  not  so  par- 
ticular about  the  buttons,  perhaps,  as  I ought  to  be  ; but 
it’s  only  a small  matter  after  all — make  your  best  of  it.” 

Small  matter,  indeed  ! I would  like  to  know  what 
part  of  your  dress  you’re  particular  about,  large  or 
small.” 

''  Hush,  Mrs.  Motherly,  hush,  I say,  or  you’ll  wake 
the  doctor.” 

I’ll  not  hush,  sir ; I can’t  hush  ; I’m  responsible  for 
you,  and  I must  speak.” 

And  can’t  you  speak  without  raising  the  town  ? ” 
said  Mr.  Guirkie,  slapping  his  sealskin  cap  down  on  his 
knees,  and  scratching  his  gray  head  in  utter  perplexity ; 

can’t  you  speak  with  some  sort  of  moderation,  ma’am?  ” 

No,  I can’t,  for  you  won’t  let  me  — but  no  matter  ; 
you  may  go — you  may  go,  sir,”  she  continued,  rising 
from  her  kneeling  posture,  and  shaking  both  hands  at 
him,  as  if  she  would  shake  herself  clean  and  clear  of  him 
forevermore.  You  may  go — I’ll  not  be  accountable 
for  you  any  longer  — not  another  hour,  sir  ; and  if  you 
come  back  dead  to  us,  don’t  blame  any  one  for  it  but 
yourself” 

Mr.  Guirkie  lost  not  a moment  in  quitting  the  house, 
as  soon  as  Mrs.  Motherly  withdrew  her  opposition,  but 
rushed  out  through  the  rain,  ambling  his  way,  as  fast  as 
his  legs  would  carry  him,  to  the  stable,  and  mounted 
Scotchy,  already  saddled  and  bridled  for  a journey. 

Hardly,  however,  had  he  got  his  foot  in  the  stirrup, 
when  Mrs.  Motherly,  accompanied  by  Dr.  Camberwell, 
whom  she  had  just  waked  up,  came  running  out  to  de- 
tain him. 

But  it  was  too  late  ; Uncle  Jerry  was  already  in  the 
saddle,  and  in  the  act  of  gathering  up  the  reins. 

Let  him  go,”  he  cried,  as  he  saw  the  doctor  ap- 
proaching under  an  umbrella,  bare-headed,  and  blear-eyed 
for  want  of  sleep  ; let  the  horse  go,  you  scoundrel,  let 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


94 

him  go;  and  giving  Scotchy  a cut  on  the  flank,  off  he 
trotted  down  the  avenue’ towards  Ballyhernan  Beach,  the 
rain  pouring  on  him  in  torrents,  and  the  cape  of  his  drab 
surtout  flapping  about  his  ears. 

^'May  the  Lord  pity  you,  poor  man,^^  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Motherly,  gazing  after  him  till  he  turned  the  corner  ; 
''  may  the  Lord  pity  you.^^ 

''  Amen,^^  said  the  doctor,  closing  his  umbrella  at  the 
door,  and  retreating  backwards  into  the  house  ; he^s 
an  extraordinary  individual. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  lEELAND. 


95 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Mr,  Weeks  begins  to  think  Ireland  not  so  very  green  a 

Country  after  ally  and  rather  unsafe  for  3Iatrimonial 

Speculations, 

Quitting  the  lighthouse,  apparently  well  pleased  with 
his  visit,  Mr.  Weeks  threw  his  broken  fishing  rod  on  his 
shoulder,  and  set  out  for  Crohan  with  as  much  speed  as 
his  long,  shambling  limbs  and  slow  habits  would  admit 
of.  It  being  already  dark,  and  the  distance  he  had  to 
walk  some  four  good  Irish  miles,  and  that  over  rough, 
mountainous  roads,  he  resolved  to  travel  somewhat  faster 
than  usual,  in  order  to  reach  Crohan  before  the  family 
retired  to  rest. 

And  here  it  should  be  remarked,  that  the  Hardwrin- 
kle  family  was  a very  grave  and  orderly  family;  a family, 
in  fact,  guided  by  rule  in  every  thing.  They  never  sat 
up  later  than  nine  o^clock,  on  any  occasion  whatever. 
Even  the  night  of  Mr.  Weekses  arrival,  as  soon  as  the 
deep-toned  clock  in  the  great  hall  struck  the  appointed 
hour,  the  seven  sisters,  in  the  order  of  seniority,  rose 
up  each  in  their  turn,  and  approaching  their  American 
cousin,  bade  him  good  night  with  a gravity  of  deport- 
ment that  well  became  the  high  reputation  they  had  long 
acquired  throughout  the  parish  for  unostentatious  piety 
and  evangelical  perfection. 

This  strict  mode  of  living  was  by  no  means  new  to 
Mr.  Weeks,  for  he  was  bred  and  born  in  the  land  of 
steady  habits  himself,  and  therefore  could  welP  under^ 
stand  the  value  his  cousins  set  upon  that  particular  fam- 
ily regulation.  This  consideration,  added  to  the  danger 
of  being  caught  in  the  approaching  storm  amongst  the 
wild  gorges  of  Benraven,  prompted  him  to  tax  his  phys- 
ical energies  a little  more  freely  than  usual. 

He  had  not  proceeded  very  far,  however,  on  his  jour- 
ney, when  he  found  his  rapid  pace  suddenly  checked  by 


96 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


a tall,  muffled  figure,  that  rose  up  before  him  on  the 
road,  and  commanded  him  to  stop. 

Who^s  there  ? demanded  Weeks,  coming  to  a dead 

halt. 

A friend. 

What  friend  — Else  Curley  ? 

''  Ay,’^  said  the  old  woman,  wrapping  her  gray  cloak 
round  her  head  and  shoulders,  and  advancing  from  the 
rock  where  she  had  been  sitting  to  the  middle  of  the 
road.  Ay,  it^s  me.  I stepped  down  to  meet  ye  at 
yer  up  comin,  to  hear  the  news.  Hem ! what^s  the 
good  word,  sir  ? 

Why,  alPs  about  right  there,  I guess, responded 
Weeks,  grounding  his  fishing  rod,  and  resting  his  hands 
on  the  end  of  it. 

Plazed  with  your  visit,  I hope.^^ 

Well,  yes — got  along  pretty  slick. 

Ye  seen  her  ? 

Well,  can^t  say  I saw  much  of  her  to  speak  of.^^ 

But  ye  think  shedl  suit  ye,  any  way  ? ’’ 

'Wes,  reckon  so  ; she^s  handsome  enough,  but  kinder 
skittish,  I guess. 

" 0,  av  coorse  ; what  else  could  ye  expect  at  the  first 
goin  off? 

"No,  that’s  all  right.  Irish  girls  are  generally  some- 
what shy  at  the  beginning.  But  I’ve  no  fear  we’ll 
bring  her  up  to  the  hitchin  post  yet.” 

"Humph!”  ejaculated  Else,  "don’t  be  too  sure  o’ 
that.  Eemember  she  has  the  ould  blood  in  her  veins.” 

" Psaugh  I humbug  1 old  blood  ! ” 

" Ye  don’t  believe  in  that.” 

" Not  I ; it’s  all  sheer  gammon.” 

"Humph  ! see  that  now  ! E’then,  sure  we  poor  cra- 
thurs  down  there  always  heerd  it  said  that  the  blood  of 
the  Talbots  was  as  hard  to  tame  as  the  blood  of  the 
aigles.” 

" The  Talbots  ? ” 

"Ay.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


97 


And  who  are  they  ? demanded  Weeks,  looking 
sharply  in  the  old  woman^s  face. 

The  Talbots  — wh}^,  musha,  thin,  did  ye  niver  hear 
tell  i^  the  Talbots  ? said  Else,  eying  him  with  a very 
equivocal  expression  of  countenance. 

No  — donT  remember  exactly. 

''Hoot!  jog  yer  mimery  a bit  — the  name^s  not  so 
mighty  scarce  that  ye  niver  heerd  it  afore.  But  no  mat- 
ter ; time  enough  to  speak  o^  thim  things  whin  weh-e  bet- 
ther  acquint.^^ 

" Them  things, repeated  Weeks  ; " what  things  ? By 
golly,  youh’e  quite  mysterious  this  evening,  old  lady  ; 
say,  what  am  I to  understand  by  them  things  ? 

" 0,  nothin,  nothin,  worth  a-talkin  of,^^  replied  Else  ; 
" youh'e  in  a hurry  now,  ye  know  ; and  besides,  there^s 
McSwine^s  gun  tearing  away  like  fury.  YeM  betther 
make  haste,  sir,  or  the  storm TU  be  on  afore  ye  get  home.’^ 

As  Else  spoke,  a thudding  sound  broke  like  a peal  of 
distant  thunder  on  the  still  air,  and  echoed  heavily  and 
slowly  along  the  shore,  and  then  away  among  the  deep 
ravines  of  the  mountains.  A little,  fleecy  cloud,  too, 
which  but  half  an  hour  gone,  had  been  hardly  percepti- 
ble on  the  western  horizon,  had  now  rolled  up  in  piles 
dark  and  dense  to  the  eastward,  and  passing  the  light- 
house, spread  far  and  wide  over  the  clear  sky. 

" What^s  that  ? demanded  Weeks,  turning  to  look  in 
the  direction  of  the  sound.  " It^s  like  a heavy  broadside 
at  sea,  ainT  it  ? 

" Ay,^^  responded  Else,  it^s  not  unlike  it ; but  the 
reports  of  all  the  guns  on  the  say,  and  the  channel  bat- 
teries to  boot,  never  carried  fear  to  as  many  hearts  as 
that.  God  look  to  the  poor  vessels  out  there  the  night ; 
theyTl  need  good  gear  and  stout  arms  to  win  through 
Tory  Island  Gut,  if  this  storm  catches  them  within  thirty 
leagues  of  the  coast. 

" And  what  means  that  bright  light  out  there  ? It 
looks  like  the  flame  of  a burning  ship  reflected  against 
the  heavens. 

0,  that^s  only  from  the  lantern  of  Tory  light, said 
9 


98 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Else  ; McSwine^s  gun  is  just  beyond  it  to  the  west  ; 
and  the  old  woman,  in  reply  to  her  companion's  inquiry, 
explained  the  cause  of  its  loud  report,  assigning  it,  of 
course,  as  all  such  things  are  popularly  assigned,  to  a 
supernatural  agency.  It^s  said,^^  she  added,  by  the 
ould  people,  that  it  niver  was  heerd  afore  the  Parlia- 
ment was  taken  away  from  us,  and  niver  will  stop  firing 
the  death  gun  of  the  nation  till  it  comes  back.^^ 

Psaugh  ! ejaculated  Weeks  ; what  a notion  ! 
ThaPs  some  of  your  old  priests^  stories,  I guess.  But, 
see  here,  — about  that  Talbot — 

And  there  goes  the  Deviks  Gulsh  too,^^  interrupted 
Else  ; look  at  the  spindrifts  as  they  begin  to  fly  across 
the  iron  bridge.  Take  a friend^ s advice,  Mr.  Weeks, 
and  hurry  home  as  fast  as  ye  can  ; for  my  word  on  it, 
if  ye  don^t,  yeTl  find  a wet  jacket  afore  ye  reach  Crohan. 
Good  night,  sir,  good  night ; and  Else  made  another 
motion  to  leave. 

Say,  hold  on,^^  cried  Weeks,  detaining  her  by  the 
skirt  of  her  cloak  ; hold  on  ; I can  wait  long  enough  to 
hear  what  youVe  got  to  say  about  the  Talbots.  How 
can  they  concern  me  — eh  ? 

'^0,  not  the  laste  in  the  world  ; how  could  they,  since 
ye  niver  heerd  tell  o^  them  afore  ? 

Well,  but  still  I may  have  been  connected  with  them 
somehow  unknown  to  me.^^ 

Ha,  ha  ! laughed  the  old  woman,  gathering  the 
scanty  cloak  still  closer  round  her  emaciated  shoulders, 
as  she  felt  the  first  breath  of  the  coming  storm,  and 
chuckling  within  its  folds,  like  one  of  Macbeth^s  witches 
gloating  over  her  boiling  caldron.  Ila,  ha  ! unbeknown 
to  ye,  indeed. 

Come,  come, said  Weeks  ; ^‘1  want  no  more  fool- 
ing just  now.  You  kinder  insinewate  I had  some  con- 
nection I hadn^t  ought  to  with  folks  name  of  Talbot. 
Hush  ! doikt  spake  so  loud.^^ 

''  Nonsense  ! loud  ! Pm  an  American  born,  and  ain^t 
afraid  to  speak  out  before  any  human  in  creation. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


99 


''That^s  mighty  bould/^  said  Else ; but  cowards 
sometimes  spake  the  loudest/^ 

''  Well;  that^s  my  way  of  doing  things,  nevertheless/^ 
''  And  a brave  way  it  is  too,  sir,  for  them  that  can 
carry  it  through  ; but  sacrets,  ye  know,  shud  be  spoke 
in  whispers,  and  above  all,  deep,  dark  sacrets  ; and  the 
old  crone  fixed  her  gray  weasel  eyes  on  the  face  of  the 
Yankee,  and  then  added,  ''  Doi/t  mention  that  name 
again  above  yer  breath,  for  somebody  might  be  lis- 
tenin/^ 

What  name  — Talbot  ? 

Whist ! I say,  the  night^s  dark.^^ 

Dark  ! I don^t  care  a brass  cent,  woman  ; nonsense  ! 
Well,  I swonnie,  if  this  ain^t  the  greatest  attempt  at 
humbug  I met  since  I left  — 

Ducksville,^^  subjoined  Else,  in  a low,  stealthy  tone, 
leering  at  him  the  while  from  under  her  hood.  And  so 
ye’d  like  to  hear  the  sacret?  ” 

Yes,  out  with  it,”  said  Weeks,  confidently  ; I ain’t 
afraid.  If  you’ve  got  a secret  regarding  me,  tell  it. 
For  my  part  I know  of  no  secret,  and  I dread  none 
either.” 

And  might  I make  bould  to  ask  ye  what  brought  ye 
here  then,  if  ye  haven’t  ? ” 

''  Why,  I came  to  visit  my  cousins.” 

Humph  ! and  are  the  Hard  wrinkles  yer  cousins  ? ” 
demanded  Else  ; eh  ! surely  yer  cousins  ? ” 

Well,  mother  says  so  ; she  ought  to  know  some- 
thing about  it,  I guess,  being  the  only  surviving  sister 
of  the  late  Mr.  Hardwrinkle  ; and  so,  feeling  rather  dis- 
posed to  many,  I took  a fancy  to  olfer  my  hand  and  for- 
tune to  Mary  Lee.” 

And  what  wud  ye  marry  her  for,  if  it’s  a fair  ques- 
tion ? ” 

''  Her  beauty,  of  course  ; she  has  nothing  else  to  rec- 
ommend her,  I reckon.” 

Ha,  ha,  ha ! ” laughed  Else,  in  hoarse,  hollow  tones, 
which  sounded  like  the  voice  of  the  dead  from  the  depths 
of  a charnel  vault,  her  toothless  gums  mumbling  the 


100 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


words  as  she  uttered  them  ; ha,  ha  ! her  beauty  indeed 
— the  beauty  of  William  Talbotts  gold  M be  nearer  the 
truth,  Fm  thinking ^ 

Weeks  heard  the  name  distinctly,  and  the  hearing  of 
it  seemed  to  paralyze  him,  for  the  fishing  rod  fell  from 
his  hands  without  his  seeming  to  notice  it. 

'^What!  said  Else,  pursuing  her  advantage,  marry 
Mary  Lee  for  her  beauty  — a girl  ye  niver  set  eyes  on, 
till  ye  seen  her,  not  three  hours  ago,  on  Lough  Ely  ? 
Hoot,  toot,  sir ; don^t  be  foolish ; yer  a quate  aisy 
spoken  man,  to  be  sure,  and  might  pass  for  what  ye 
plaze  with  the  simple  counthry  gawkies  here  on  the  wild 
mountains ; but  as  for  me,  I^m  a little  too  ould  in  the 
horn  to  be  blindfolded  in  that  way.^^ 

'‘You  misunderstand  me,  old  lady,^^  said  Weeks,  picking 
up  his  fishing  rod,  and  endeavoring  to  compose  himself. 

" Well,  listen  to  me  for  a minute,  and  ye’ll  hear  my 
raisons.  Didn’t  ye  bargain  with  me  for  my  good  word 
with  Mary  Lee  ? ” 

" Yes  ; guess  so.” 

" And  didn’t  ye  bargain  with  me  moreover  if  my  good 
word  ’d  fail  to  delud-her  her  with  spells  and  charms,  an 
that  afore  iver  ye  seen  a faiture  of  her  face  ? ” 

"No,  that’s  a mistake,”  responded  Weeks;  "I  saw 
her  at  the  Catholic  Chapel  before  I saw  you,  and  deter- 
mined to  have  her  at  any  sacrifice.” 

"Saw  her!  may  be  so,  but  ye  didn’t  see  her  face; 
she  was  veiled.” 

" Can’t  say  as  to  that ; saw  enough  at  least  to  know 
she  was  a handsome  gal.  Why  should  she  be  veiled  — 
eh  ? ” 

"Niver  mind;  she  has  her  own  raisons,  I suppose; 
but  this  much  I can  tell  ye,  that  many’s  the  little  up 
settin  squireen  and  purse  proud  hudagh  threw  themselves 
in  her  way  the  last  twel’month  and  more,  as  she  went  in 
and  out  of  Massmount  Chapel  of  a Sunday  mornin,  lanin 
on  her  uncle’s  arm,  to  stale  a glim.pse  at  her  ' bonny 
een,’  and  got  little  for  their  pains  when  all  was  done. 
No,  no,  sir ; ye  seen  that  bright,  sunny  face  this  blissed 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


101 


day  for  the  first  time  in  yer  life,  or  Pm  far  out  i’  my 
recknin.^^ 

Well,  saw  enough  to  know  she^s  a handsome  gal,^^ 
stammered  out  Weeks,  hardly  knowing  what  to  say  in 
the  face  of  Else^s  positive  assertion. 

And  listen  to  me  again, continued  the  latter,  still 
following  up  her  advantage ; ''why  didn^t  ye  thry  the  girl 
yerself  afore  ye  came  my  length  ? Yer  not  so  handsome 
that  sheM  be  lakely  to  fall  plump  in  love  with  ye,  to  be 
sure  ; but  still  yer  not  so  ill-looking  aither  for  a foreigner; 
and  then  to  the  back  i^  that,  yeVe  as  many  goold  rings, 
chains,  and  gaglygaws  about  ye  as  might  set  any  young 
crather^s  heart  a flutterin.  Why,  in  the  name  i^  wondher, 
I say,  didn^t  ye  thry  what  ye  cud  do  yerself  afore  ye^d 
go  to  the  expense  of  engagin  me  ? 

‘'Why,  I wanted  to  be  spry  about  it,’^  responded 
Weeks.  " Timers  money  to  me  ; I count  hours  dollars, 
and  minutes  cents.  I couldn^t  afibrd  to  wait,  no  how. 
But  pray  how  does  it  concern  you  what  my  views 
and  motives  are,  if  I pay  your  price  when  the  job^s 
done  ? 

" Ay,  ay,’’  muttered  Else  ; " that’s  it  — that’s  it.  Ye 
thought  ye’d  make  short  work  of  it,  for  fear  the  sacret ’d 
lake  out.  Humph  ! I see ; and  yer  cousins,  as  ye  call 
them,  the  Hardwrinkles,  made  ye  believe  I was  a witch, 
I’ll  warrint,  and  could  do  more  with  spells  and  charms 
than  you  with  all  yer  fine  airs  and  boasted  riches.  Ay, 
ay,  ye  thought  I was  an  ould  hell-born  divil  ’ithout  sowl 
or  conscience,  ready  to  do  yer  dirty  work,  and  ask  no 
questions  aither.  But  yer  mistaken,  Mr.  Weeks  ; cute 
as  ye  are,  ye’ll  find  me  just  as  canny ; and  I tell  ye 
what  it  is,  may  I niver  see  the  sun  again,  if  all  the  dol- 
lars in  America  cud  buy  me  over  to  move  one  hair’s 
breath  in  this  dark  plot,  if  it  wasn’t  for  the  sake  of  Mary 
Lee  herself.” 

Weeks  paused  for  an  instant  before  he  spoke.  The 
solemn  declaration  he  had  just  heard,  and  made  with  so 
much  apparent  sincerity,  completely  puzzled  him.  It 
was  a phase  in  the  old  woman’s  character  he  had  never 
9 * 


102 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


noticed  before.  Already,  indeed,  he  had  penetration 
enough  to  see  that  she  was  by  no  means  the  kind  of  per- 
son common  report  represented  her,  nor  such  as  he  took 
her  for  himself  on  his  first  visit  to  the  Cairn.  Since  that 
time,  lier  character,  it^s  true,  had  been  slowly  and  gradu- 
ally developing  itself,  but  still  in  such  a manner  as  nei- 
ther to  surprise  nor  startle  him.  Now  he  hardly  knew 
what  to  make  of  her.  Every  mark,  every  characteristic, 
of  the  original  woman  seemed  to  have  gradually  vanished 
one  by  one.  Her  decrepitude,  her  stupidity,  her  peevish- 
ness, her  deafness,  her  blindness,  had  all  disappeared  day 
after  day,  and  so  completely,  that  at  last  he  could  hardly 
believe  in  her  very  identity.  The  wretched  being  he 
found,  but  a month  gone,  sitting  over  her  peat  fire,  with 
her  goat  by  her  side,  and  looking  as  stolid  as  if  all  her 
mental  faculties  had  fled,  now  stood  before  him,  an  active, 
shrewd,  energetic  woman.  All  about  her  was  changed 
— all  save  the  furrows  of  her  brown  skin,  and  the  gray 
elf  locks  which  still  stole  out  from  under  the  band  of  her 
ruffled  cap.  After  such  a metamorphosis,  what  wonder 
if  Weeks  began  to  suspect  (and  especially  after  so  solemn 
a declaration  as  he  had  just  heard)  that  her  reputed  lust 
of  gold  was  false,  like  all  the  other  charges  made  against 
her ! And  how  could  he  tell  now,  but  it  was  her  love 
of  Mary  Lee,  rather  than  her  love  of  gold,  that  led  her 
to  take  so  lively  an  interest  in  his  affairs  ? IBe  that  as  it 
might.  Weeks  felt  confused  and  puzzled  to  his  wit^s  end, 
and  finally  resolved  to  let  Else  have  her  own  way,  be- 
lieve what  she  pleased  of  him,  and  carry  out  her  own 
views  to  benefit  her  protegee  after  her  own  fashion. 

So  it^s  entirely  for  the  girFs  sake,^^  he  at  length  re- 
plied, ''  that  you  consent  to  aid  me  in  the  matter  of  this 
marriage. 

Humph  ! I love  gold,’^  responded  Else,  ''  but  I love 
Mary  Lee  better.’^ 

''  Then  you  should  relinquish  your  claim  on  the  re- 
maining three  of  the  four  hundred  dollars  I promised  you, 
since  you  serve  her  interests,  not  iniiie.’^ 

Not  a brass  copper  of  it,^^  replied  Else ; not  a 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


103 


copper.  No,  no  ; so  far  from  that,  III  be  expectin 
another  hundred  by  this  time  next  Thursday. 

Another  ! whew  ! Well,  well,  you  shall  have  it,^^ 
said  Weeks,  promptly  ; for  after  all,  it  donT. matter  a 
punkiu  seed  to  me  what  your  motives  are,  if  you  only 
secure  the  girl.^^ 

Nor  the  girPs  love  or  beauty  a punkin  seed  aither, 
if  ye  can  only  make  her  yer  wife.^^ 

Well  — don't  know  about  that." 

Hoot ! sir,  ye  know,  as  well  as  the  sowl's  in  yer 
body,  that  ye  don't  care  a chaw  i'  tabacky  for  her  beauty. 
Yer  afther  somethin  ye  value  more  nor  beauty,  or  I'm 
not  Else  Curley  o'  the  Cairn." 

You're  not  what  I once  took  you  for,  that's  certain," 
replied  Weeks.  ''  You  may  be  the  d — 1 for  what  I know 

— and  just  as  like  as  anything  else,  for  all  I can  see  to 
the  contrary." 

Ha,  ha ! I'm  not  the  dotin  ould  crone  yer  friends 'd 
make  me  out,  that 'd  sell  her  sowl  to  fill  her  pockets." 

I required  no  such  sacrifice,"  responded  Weeks.  I 
employed  you  to  serve  me  in  a perfectly  lawful  transac- 
tion, from  which  no  injury  could  possibly  result  to  either 
party." 

Humph  ! and  suppose  the  girl  was  left  a fortin  by  a 
friend  in  furrin  parts,"  said  Else,  what  then?  Who'd 
be  the  gainer  ? " 

'^Gainer?  Why,  I guess  I'm  good  enough  for  her 

— any  way  you  can  fix  it,  fortune  or  no  fortune,"  said 
Weeks,  thrusting  his  hands  into  his  breeches  pockets, 
and  hitching  up  his  .cap  behind  with  the  collar  of  his 
coat.  ''  Yes,  old  lady,  good  enough  if  she  had  fifty  for- 
tunes." 

Good  enough  for  her  ! " repeated  Else,  looking  into 
his  face  — her  thin,  wrinkled  lips  turning  up  in  scorn  as 
she  spoke.  You  good  enough  for  Mary  Lee  ! " 

Ay,  or  for  any  other  Irish  girl,  by  crackie,  ever 
stepped  in  shoe  leather,"  cried  the  Yankee,  jingling  up 
the  silver  change  in  his  pockets. 

Ha,  ha  ! " laughed  Else  ; ''  that's  mighty  modest." 


104 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Well,  themes  my  sentiments/^ 

Yer  wakeness,  ye  mane/^ 

No,  ma^am,  my  solemn  conviction.  The  son  of  an 
American  revolutionist  is  good  enough,  I take  it,  for  the 
biggest  — darndest  old  aristocrat's  daughter  in  the  land, 
all-fired  proud  as  they  feel/^ 

May  be  so,  may  be  so,^^  quietly  replied  Else.  But 
if  thaVs  yer  way  o^  thinkin,  Vd  advise  ye  keep  it  to  yer- 
self.  Such  talk  as  that  may  sound  big  in  America,  but 
it  woi/t  go  down  here.^^ 

Here  — and  what  the  tarnation  are  ye,  that  an  Ameri- 
can born  can^t  speak  his  sentiments  right  out,  just  as  he 
pleases  ? 

0,  tlien  indeed  it^s  true  for  ye ; bad  scran  to  the 
much  we  are.  But  still  ye  know  we  have  our  feelins  as 
well  as  other  people.  And,  between  ourselves,  Mr. 
Weeks,  it^s  not  very  seemly  to  hear  a man  like  you,  with- 
out a dhrop  o’  dacent  blood  in  his  veins,  comin  over 
here  and  settin  himself  up  as  an  aiqual  for  the  best  in  the 
land.  Wow  ! wow  ! sir,  it’s  mighty  provokin  to  see  a 
stranger  takin  sich  airs  on  himself  afore  he’s  a month  in 
the  country.” 

My  dear  woman,  ye’re  behind  the  age,  I guess,  two 
or  three  centuries  down  here  in  this  section.  If  you  only 
kept  run  of  the  times,  you’d  soon  come  to  find,  that  an 
American  always  makes  himself  at  home  wherever  he 
goes  — that  his  very  name’s  a passport  to  every  which 
country  in  creation.” 

''  Bedad,  thin,  if  ye  thry  that  same  passport  here,  I’m 
afeerd  it  won’t  take,  barrin  ye  spake  a little  modester 
nor  ye  do  now.  Little  as  ye  think  of  the  Irish  abroad, 
faith,  there’s  some  o’  them  at  home  here’d  make  ye  keep 
a civil  distance,  if  ye  don’t  keep  a civil  tongue  in  yer 
head.  Mind  that,  sir,  and  don’t  forget  it,  aither,  as  long 
as  yer  in  the  country.” 

''  Well,”  said  Weeks,  somewhat  taken  aback  by  Else’s 
contemptuous  disregard  of  a claim  which  he  thought 
irresistible  all  over  the  world,  and  especially  in  poverty- 
stricken  Ireland,  '^well,  I was  always  taught  to  reckon 


THE  YANI0:E  in  IRELAND. 


105 


a free-born  American  good  enough  for  any  woman  in 
creation  ; and  I rather  think,  old  lady,  youdl  have  to  try 
hard  before  you  unsettle  that  opinion.  Cousin  Nathan 
— I mentioned  his  name  once  before,  I guess  — Cousin 
Nathan  was  considerable  of  a shrewd  man  in  his  way  — as 
shrewd,  I presume,  as  most  men  in  that  section  of  the 
country  — well,  he  was  a man  that  was  always  posted 
up  in  every  thing  relating  to  Europe  and  European  aris- 
tocracy, and  he  told  me,  often  and  often,  that  a free-born 
American  was  good  enough  — 

Paugh  ! free-born  fiddlesticks  ! exclaimed  Else. 
What  the  plague  do  we  care  about  yer  free-born  Ameri- 
cans or  yer  Cousin  Nathans  aither  ? We^re  abliged  to  ye, 
to  be  sure,  for  sendin  us  over  what  ye  did  in  our  time  of 
need,  an  ill  it  M be  our  common  to  forget  it,  or  indeed 
our  childher  after  us,  for  that  matter,  but  in  the  name  o^ 
patience  have  sense,  and  donft  take  the  good  out  of  all 
ye  do  by  boastin  and  puffin  yer  Americanism  that  way, 
like  an  auctioneer  sellin  caligoes  at  a fair.^^ 

Boasting  ! repeated  Weeks  ; ''  well  there  ! Boast- 
ing ! why,  if  there^s  any  thing  in  this  world  I hate  more 
than  another,  iPs  boasting.  I never  boast  — never.  The 
people  of  these  old  reduced  nations  here  may  boast,  and 
the  poorer  they  happen  to  be,  the  greater  braggarts  they 
are.  But  our  nation  is  too  dignified,  too  intelligent,  for 
that;  she^s  too  great  to  stoop  to  such  trifles.  No,  no  ; 
I merely  stated  a fact,  and  I repeat  it  again,  that  a free 
American,  a son  of  the  immortal  Washington,  is  good 
enough  for  the  best  and  highest  blood  in  creation.'^ 

''  Very  good,^^  said  Else  ; every  body  has  a right  to 
his  own  opinion,  I suppose.  But  don't  talk  that  way 
to  Edward  Lee,  if  you  don't  want  to  pick  a quarrel 
with  him.  For  never  was  flint  fuller  of  fire  than  ye'll  find 
him,  if  ye  touch  his  family  pride,  by  such  talk  as  that." 

Well,  hold  on  a bit.  I've  got  an  all-fired  sure  way 
of  bringing  down  that  same  family  pride  a peg  or  two, 
and  without  a quarrel  either.  See  if  I hain't." 

Why,  in  deed  an  word,"  said  Else,  suddenly  chan- 
ging her  tone  to  a confidential  whisper,  and  to  tell  ye 


106 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


truth,  may  be  that  itself  wudn’t  be  the  worst  thing*  ye 
cud  do,  after  all,  for  I^m  thinkiii  they^ll  have  to  be  beg- 
gared before  they^re  betthered,  the  crathurs/^ 

What  does  that  mean  ? demanded  Weeks. 

Why,  that  afther  all  our  schamin,  Mary  Lee  won^t 
have  ye  till  she  finds  there^s  no  other  way  to  save  her- 
self and  her  uncle  from  the  poorhouse  or  the  jail. 

Whilst  Else  was  yet  speaking,  the  crack  of  a pistol 
made  Weeks  turn  his  eyes  quickly  in  the  direction  of  the 
little  cabin  on  the  Cairn.  The  night,  however,  was  so 
pitchy  dark,  he  could  see  nothing  beyond  the  edge  of 
the  road  ; but  judging  from  the  sharpness  of  the  report, 
he  thought  the  weapon  must  have  been  discharged  with- 
in a dozen  paces  of  where  he  stood.  Wondering  what 
this  could  mean  in  a spot  so  remote  and  a night  so 
dark  and  threatening  — for  the  evening  breeze  had  now 
changed  into  occasional  gusts,  and  big  drops  of  rain  be- 
gan to  fall  so  heavily  as  to  disturb  the  dust  under  his  feet, 
— wondering,  and  still  keeping  his  eyes  turned  towards 
the  Cairn,  he  was  again  startled  by  a shrill  whistle  twice 
repeated,  and  seemingly  as  close  to  him  as  if  it  had  come 
from  himself.  Turning  short  to  demand  from  his  com- 
panion what  this  signal  meant,  and  why  she  replied  to  it, 
he  found,  much  to  his  surprise  and  vexation,  that  he  stood 
alone  — Else  was  gone.  The  moment  after,  however,  an 
answer  came  to  his  question,  but  in  a form  somewhat 
different  from  what  the  astonished  American  expected  ; 
for  hardly  had  he  called  the  old  woman  a second  time  to 
come  back  and  explain  the  mystery,  when  a flash  of  light- 
ning, instantly  followed  by  a clap  of  thunder,  shot  across 
the  road  and  revealed  for  a second  the  form  and  face  of 
the  handsome  young  sailor,  whom  he  had  seen  convers- 
ing with  Mary  Lee  but  an  hour  before,  on  the  edge  of  the 
precipice.  It  was  but  a single  flash,  and  lasted  no  longer 
than  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  ; and  yet  he  saw  the  young 
man  distinctly  — standing  on  a little  knoll  within  a short 
call  of  him,  and  resting  on  the  boat-hook  in  the  very  posi- 
tion he  had  seen  him  last. 

Weekses  first  impulse  was  to  follow  Else  and  demand 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


107 


an  explanation.  The  presence  of  the  stranger,  at  such  a 
time  and  place,  appeared  to  him  rather  suspicious ; and 
being  inquisitive  by  nature,  as  well  as  somewhat  appre- 
hensive of  Else^s  fidelity,  he  resolved  to  have  the  mystery 
cleared  up  at  once,  let  the  storm  rage  as  it  might. 

With  this  magnanimous  intention,  he  strode  over  the 
low  fence  on  the  road  side,  and  boldly  advanced  up  the 
hill  towards  the  Cairn.  Breathless,  as  much  from  agi- 
tation of  mind  as  of  body,  he  made  his  way  within  fifty 
paces  of  Else’s  cabin,  fully  determined  to  have  his  mind 
satisfied  at  all  hazards  — when,  alas  for  human  hopes! 
he  was  again  destined  to  meet  with  disappointment ; for 
just  as  he  had  gained  the  top  of  the  first  slope,  Nannie 
presented  herself  before  him,  right  in  the  middle  of  his 
path. 

Well,  there  1 he  exclaimed,  gazing  at  the  old  white 
goat  standing  before  him  as  stiff  and  resolute  as  a sentry 
on  guard — 'Hhere  I you^re  ready  for  mischief  again,  I 
see ; but  go  ahead,  old  Beelzebub  ; ITl  be  darned  if  you 
stop  me  this  time  ; and  clutching  his  fishing  rod  Celtic 
fashion,  he  straightway  put  himself  on  his  defence. 

Nannie,  true  to  the  well-known  habits  and  instincts  of 
her  species,  backed  slowly  away,  till  she  had  receded 
some  ten  or  twelve  paces,  and  then  rearing  on  her  hind 
feet,  made  a rush  full  against  the  intruder,  and  would 
probably  have  upset  him,  but  Weeks,  who  had  had  some 
experience  of  the  animal  already,  evaded  the  blow  by 
stepping  aside  at  the  critical  moment,  and  as  she  passed 
struck  her  on  the  horns.  The  goat,  however,  seemed 
not  to  notice  it  in  the  least ; for  immediately  turning  and 
running  up  the  hill  to  intercept  him,  she  again  drew  her- 
self up  in  a position  to  renew  the  encounter.  It  should 
here  be  said,  perhaps,  that  Nannie  had  somewhat  the 
advantage  of  Mr.  Weeks,  inasmuch  as  the  latter  was  a 
stranger  in  the  country,  and  had  but  a very  indifferent 
knowledge  of  the  use  of  his  weapon ; whereas  Nannie, 
according  to  common  report,  was  already  the  ''hero  of  a 
hundred  battles. Besides,  she  knew  her  ground  better 
and  could  see  more  distinctly  in  the  darkness.  With  such 


108 


•MARY  LEE,  OR 


odds  against  him,  however,  Mr.  Weeks  did  his  devoir 
bravely,  and  showed  no  lack  of  courage  in  addressing 
himself  to  so  strange  a combat.  At  length  Nannie  again 
rose  up,  and  plunged  forward  as  before,  with  a furious 
rush,  and  again  missing  her  aim,  received  a second  blow 
on  the  horns  as  violent  as  the  first. 

''Come,  old  she-devil,  — half  catamount,  half  Luci- 
fer, — fire  up  again  ; Til  teach  you  a Yankee  trick  or 
two  ; come  on,  old  rattlesnake.^^  But  Nannie,  it  seemed, 
was  not  disposed  to  renew  the  encounter  so  readily  as  he 
expected.  Taking  it  for  granted,  nevertheless,  she  would 
a third  time  repeat  her  manoeuvre  of  running  on  before 
him  and  heading  him  off,  he  resolved  to  benefit  by  her 
loss  of  time,  and  have  the  start  of  her  for  the  Cairn. 
With  this  object  in  view,  he  made  all  possible  haste  up 
the  hill,  and  had  gained  on  her  a considerable  distance, 
when  all  of  a sudden,  and  without  the  slightest  anticipa- 
tion of  it  on  his  part,  something  struck  him  from  behind, 
and  threw  him  back  head  foremost,  down  the  hill.  A 
statue  of  marble  thrust  back  from  its  pedestal  down  an 
inclined  plane  could  not  have  fallen  more  helplessly  than 
did  Ephraim  Weeks.  The  thud  of  his  body  on  the  beaten 
foot  path  might  have  been  heard  distinctly  at  the  cabin, 
lie  was  now  completely  at  the  mercy  of  his  enemy.  Twice 
he  essayed  to  regain  his  feet,  and  twice  did  Nannie  lay 
him  flat  on  his  back.  At  length,  however,  he  succeeded 
so  far  as  to  scramble  up  on  his  knees,  and  — as  the  goat, 
now  in  the  heat  of  encounter,  closed  in  upon  him,  no 
longer  retreating  and  advancing,  as  before  — he  finally 
seized  her  by  the  horns,  and  speechless,  breathless,  furi- 
ous, there  he  held  her.  But  what  was  he  to  do  now  ? 
lie  could  not  remain  kneeling,  in  that  attitude,  looking  in 
his  enemy’s  face,  all  night,  amid  the  rain  and  lightning. 
He  was  sorely  perplexed,  for  never  was  he  between  two 
such  horns  of  a dilemma  before.  To  let  go, his  hold,  and 
strike  with  the  but  of  his  fishing  rod,  would  only  enrage 
her  the  more,  without  in  the  least  extricating  him  from  his 
embarrassment ; and  to  hold  her  with  one  hand,  whilst  he 
drew  out  his  pocket  pistol  (a  weapon  he  always  carried 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


109 


about  him)  with  the  other,  was  more  than  he  could  ac- 
complish. In  either  case,  he  was  likely  to  find  himself 
as  helpless  and  prostrate  as  ever  before  he  could  strike  a 
blow  or  draw  a trigger. 

''  Tarnation  seize  ye,^^  he  cried,  looking  into  the  ani- 
maPs  face,  and  shaking  her  by  the  horns  ; are  you  man, 
or  beast,  or  devil,  or  what  are  ye 

Nannie  bleated  a reply.  It  was  her  defiance  d Vou- 
trance. 

0,  good  heavens  ! cried  Weeks,  in  accents  of  de- 
spair, ''is  there  such  another  country  as  this  in  all 
almighty  creation  ? Here  I am  on  my  knees,  pelted  with 
rain,  half  singed  with  lightning,  and  nearly  beaten  to  a 
mummy  by  a goat,  the  very  first  day  I entered  on  my 
plans  and  speculations.^^ 

But  this  condition  of  things  could  not  long  endure  ; and 
so  Mr.  Weeks,  at  last,  prudently  determined  to  run  for 
it,  since  he  could  see  no  other  way  of  terminating  the 
fight.  It  was  the  resource  of  the  coward,  to  be  sure,  but 
what  else  could  be  done  ? Making  a desperate  efibrt, 
therefore,  he  threw  the  goat  on  her  side  by  a sudden 
wrench  of  the  horns,  and  then,  jumping  on  his  feet,  fled 
down  the  hill,  over  the  fence,  and  along  the  road,  as  fast 
as  his  long  logs  could  carry  him,  cursing  lustily,  as  lie 
ran,  the  unlucky  day  he  ever  had  the  misfortune  to  meet 
• Else  Curley  of  the  Cairn.  And  here  we  must  leave  him 
to  pursue  his  dreary  journey,  and  return  to  other  actors 
in  the  play. 


10 


110 


MAr^Y  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

Lardy  acknowledges  his  Weakness  for  Fishing  and  Field 
Sports,  but  thinks  Father  Brennan^ s liable  nothing  the 
worse  for  that.  — Dr.  Henshaw  is  suddenly  presented  to 
the  Reader,  and  Uncle  Jerry  discovered  in  the  Bottom 
of  a Boat,  supporting  the  Negro  with  the  broken  Toes, 

Castle  Gregory,  the  family  seat  of  the  Petershams,  on 
the  banks  of  Lough  Swilly,  was  an  odd-fashioned  place  as 
could  be  seen  any  where  in  Ireland  or  out  of  it.  Standing 
all  alone,  cold  and  bare,  against  the  side  of  a mountain, 
it  looked  more  like  a Ehenish  fortress,  or  soldier^s  bar- 
rack, than  a gentleman^s  residence.  To  the  traveller, 
whether  he  approached  it  by  sea  or  land,  it  presented  a 
bleak  and  desolate  appearance.  There  was  neither  tree 
to  shelter  it  from  the  storm,  nor  portico  to  break  the 
blast  from  the  hall  door.  It  consisted  of  several  piles 
of  buildings,  erected  at  different  periods,  and  jumbled 
together  without  the  least  ornament  or  the  slightest  re- 
gard to  congruity  of  outline.  High  dormer  windows  and 
tall  brick  chimneys  rose  up  in  remarkable  confusion,  and 
so  closely  packed  together  that  all  the  swallows  and 
jackdaws  of  the  parish  seemed  to  gather  there  in  the  • 
season  to  build  their  nests.  As  to  the  pleasure  grounds, 
if  indeed  they  should  be  so  called,  they  had  neither  gate 
nor  stone  wall  to  enclose  them.  All  round  about  the 
place  was  open  and  bare  ; indeed,  save  a few  acres  of 
green  lawn  before  the  hall  door,  where  the  old  sun  dial 
stood  between  the  two  lions  couchant,  there  was  nothing 
to  be  seen  any  where  but  bent  and  sand  hills.  In  front 
of  the  castle,  Ballyrnastocker  strand  and  rabbit  warren 
stretched  away  to  Eathmullen  Head,  from  the  brow  of 
which  Dunree  battery  pointed  its  guns  across  the  nar- 
rows of  the  frith,  and  behind  it  Sugar  Loaf  Hill  rose  up 
like  a pyramid  with  its  little  coast-guard  station  and  flag- 
staff on  top. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


Ill 


Approaching  Castle  Gregory  by  water,  from  the  direc- 
tion of  Araheera  Point,  the  immense  precipices,  which 
line  the  southern  shore,  completely  hide  it  from  the  travel- 
ler’s view,  till  he  comes  within  an  oar’s  length  or  two  of 
the  usual  landing  place.  It  was  on  this  account,  proba- 
bly, that  the  occupants  of  a small  sailing  boat,  which 
glided  up  the  channel  the  evening  after  the  painful  events 
related  in  the  preceding  chapter,  seemed  quite  unconscious 
of  their  near  proximity  to  the  place,  for  the  steersman  put 
up  his  helm,  and  sent  the  boat  sheering  away  in  an  oppo- 
site direction,  just  as  she  had  almost  touched  the  nose  of 
the  quay. 

Hilloa,  there  ! ” exclaimed  one  of  the  passengers. 

Where  away,  now?  You’re  taking  us  over  to  Innis- 
howen  instead  of  Bally mastocker.  Put  her  about,  man  ; 
put  her  about  directly.” 

'^Why,  sir,  you  must  be  mistaken,”  said  the  man  at 
the  rudder. 

Not  very  likely.  After  boating  about  here  nearly 
every  week  of  my  life  for  the  last  fifteen  years,  I should 
know  the  lay  of  the  land  at  least.” 

Well,  there’s  Doughmore,  where  you  see  the  smoke  ; 
and  there’s  Buncrana  — ” v 

Nonsense,  sir  ; don’t  you  see  the  spars  of  the  Water 
Hen  here  over  the  rocks  behind  us  ? Bound  with  her, 
sir,  and  let  us  ashore.” 

''  Begorra,  I believe  you’re  right,”  muttered  the  skip- 
per, giving  the  helm  a jerk  when  he  saw  his  mistake. 

You’re  parfectly  right,  Father  John  — what  in  the 
world  could  I be  thinkin  of!  ” 

Some  deviltry,  I suppose  — what  you’re  always 
thinking  of.” 

0,  don’t  be  so  hard  on  me,  yer  riverince  ; you  can’t 
expect  every  one  to  know  the  place  as  well  as  yourself, 
after  crui sin  about  here  on  sick  calls  so  many  years.” 

''  Hut,  tut,  sir  ; you’re  a pretty  pilot,  to  carry  us 
through  these  rocks  and  currents,”  continued  the  priest, 
in  a half-bantering,  half-serious  tone.  '^If  you  knew 
only  half  as  much  about  piloting  as  you  do  about  poach- 


112 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


ing,  you  wouldn^t  be  amiss.  There  now  — take  care  of 
the  shoals  here  — steady  that,  steady  ; and  the  tide  will 
set  us  into  the  basin. 

When  the  boat  touched  the  ground,  the  steersman 
stepped  ashore,  and  drew  up  her  bows  as  far  as  he  was 
able  on  the  hard  beach,  (for  it  seemed  the  regular  landing 
place  at  that  time  of  tide  was  rather  inconvenient  for  his 
purpose,)  and  then  prepared  to  land  his  passengers. 

Lane  on  me,  yer  riverince,^^  said  he,  as  the  priest 
stood  with  his  foot  on  the  gunwale,  ready  to  jump  ; lane 
on  me  ; the  shore^s  rough. 

Yes  ; lean  on  you,  till  you  break  my  neck,  as  you 
came  within  an  inch  of  doing  last  week.  Away  — Til 
never  trust  you  again. 

But  youhl  hurt  yer  feet.  Father  John,^^  persisted  the 
skipper,  with  more  concern  for  the  clergymari^s  safety 
than  the  danger  seemed  to  warrant. 

Never  mind  my  feet  — stand  off — ITl  none  of  your 
help/^ 

''Why,  these  hard,  rough  paving  stones,  — theyh*e 
terrible  on  the  g — on  tinder  feet,  I mane  ; plaze  your 
riverince,  just  lane  on  me  once  more.^^ 

The  priest,  as  he  stood  there  with  his  foot  on  the  gun- 
wale, appeared  to  be  a man  of  middle  age  and  stature, 
and  active  enough,  one  would  suppose,  to  jump  twice  the 
distance  ; but  the  skipper,  who  was  evidently  a humorous 
fellow  in  his  way,  had  probably  discovered  his  weak  point, 
and  seemed  disposed  to  tease  him  about  it  in  requital 
for  the  rebuke  he  gave  him  in  the  presence  of  strangers. 

"You  may  take  m}^  word  for  it,  Fll  lean  upon  you 
some  of  these  days,  my  good  fellow, said  the  priest, 
pushing  the  skipper  aside,  and  stepping  ashore  with  the 
greatest  ease  imaginable  ; " Fll  lean  upon  you  the  right 
way,  too.^^ 

" But  sure,  yer  riverince,  accordin  to  yer  own  words, 
we’re  all  bound  to  forgive  one  another.’’ 

" Never  mind,  sir ; I have  a crow  to  pluck  with  you, 
notwithstanding.”  ^ 

" A crow  ! ” retorted  the  skipper  ; " bedad,  sir,  that’s 


THE  YANEH:E  in  IRELAND. 


113 


tough  pickin.  But  sure  if  yeM  accept  of  a brace  of 
grouse  or  wild  duck,  Fd  bring  them  up  — 

Hold  your  peace,  Lanty  Hanlon, exclaimed  the 
priest  — for  the  skipper  was  no  other  than  our  quondam 
friend,  — ''hold  your  peace;  you^re  growing  quite  too 
malapert  of  late.  Perhaps  if  you  thought  I heard  all 
about  your  treatment  of  Mr.  Johnston^s  gamekeeper,  last 
Monday  night,  you  would  hardly  be  so  bold.’’ 

" Me,  sir  ? ” 

" Ay,  you,  sir.” 

" Why,  now  just  listen  to  that,  gentlemen.  May  I 
niver  do  harm,  if  it  don’t  beat  Banagher  out  and  out. 
Upon  my  conscience  it’s  the  most  astonishin  — ” 

" 0,  you  needn’t  affect  all  that  innocent  surprise,” 
said  the  priest,  interrupting  him.  "I  know  you  too  well 
to  be  hoodwinked  in  that  way,  Mr.  Hanlon.  So  not  an- 
other word  now,  but  make  haste  to  land  your  passengers.” 

" 0,  to  be  sure  — av  coorse  — that’s  always  the  way 
with  ye,”  muttered  Lanty,  making  a show  of  hauling  up 
the  boat’s  side  to  the  beach.  " 0,  no,  why  shud  I be  al- 
lowed to  clear  myself?  Av  coorse  nobody  in  the  whole 
parish  does  the  laste  harm  in  life,  from  Monday  mornin 
till  Saturday  night,  but  Lanty  Hanlon.  But  isn’t  it  migh- 
ty odd,”  he  continued,  winking  slyly  at  one  of  the  occu- 
pants of  the  boat,  " how  bad  entirely  he  feels  about  the 
gamekeeper,  when,  if  report  be  true,  he  was  himself,  once 
in  his  days,  the  terror  of  all  the  gamekeepers  in  the 
barony!  But  it’s  not  that  ails  him — there’s  somethin 
else  in  the  win.  Fll  wager  he’s  angry  about  that  salmon 
I sent  him  last  week  ; ” and  closing  one  eye  hard,  he 
looked  with  the  other  at  a little  man  seated  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat.  " Sure  if  I cud  only  be  sartint  it  was  that, 
Fd  ask  his  pardon  and  promise  niver  to  do  the  lake  again.” 

" Ha  1 ha  I Capital  I capital  I Lanty,”  ejaculated  the 
little  man  from  under  the  thwarts — "promise  never 
to  send  him  a salmon  again  if  lie  only  forgives  you  ; he  I 
he  ! excellent,  I declare  ! ” 

" Salmon  I Wha^'salmon,  sir,  do  you  mean  ? ” demand- 
ed the  priest. 


10* 


114 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


0,  nothing  worth  speakin  of,  yer  riverince,^^  replied 
Lanty,  pushing  up  his  rabbit-skin  cap  from  his  eye-s,  and 
giving  the  boat  another  pull ; nothin  but  a small  twenty 
poundher  I speared  under  Mr.  Wattses  milldam,  and  sent 
up  to  the  housekeeper  for  your  last  Friday^s  dinner  ; but 
af  coorse  yer  riverince  niver  suspected  how  it  came,  or 
ye  wouldn^t  taste  a morsel  of  it  for  the  world. 

''Ha!  ha ! laughed  the  same  voice;  " that^s  it; 
give  it  to  him,  Lanty  — that^s  just  his  deserving. 

" Lanty  Hanlon, exclaimed  the  priest,  laughing  at  the 
joke  himself — for  he  saw  in  an  instant  he  had  been  made 
unwittingly  to  entertain  those  very  friends  now  sitting  in 
the  boat  to  a stolen  salmon,  last  Friday  at  dinner,  despite  all 
his  public  threats  and  denunciations  against  so  unjust  and 
mischievous  a practice,  — " Lanty  Hanlon, he  repeated, 
" should  you  attempt  such  a trick  again,  you  may  depend 
on  it  I shall  report  you  to  the  constabulary.^^ 

" Ha  ! iLanty,  listen  to  that  — eh,  how  very  big  spoken 
he  is  ! why,  I vow  and  declare,  Lanty,  I haven’t  seen  a 
bit  of  game  at  his  table  these  five  years  but  he  threatened 
to  throw  out  of  the  window.” 

" 0,  it’s  wondherful,  yer  honor,  how  mighty  tender 
his  conscience  is  in  regard  of  game  ! But  isn’t  it  quare, 
sir,  this  weakness  niver  comes  over  his  riverince  while 
there’s  a bone  of  it  to  be  seen  on  the  table  afore  him  ? ” 

" Hold  your  scandalous  tongue,”  cried  the  good- 
natured  priest,  raising  his  cane,  at  last,  over  Lanty’s 
head  ; " hold  your  impudent  tongue,  I say,  or  I’ll  be 
tempted  to  make  this  acquainted  with  your  ears  ; ” and 
shaking  the  weapon  at  the  provoking  fellow,  he  moved 
away  from  the  shore,  out  of  hearing  of  his  voice. 

" Mr.  Henshaw,”  said  Lanty,  (now  that  Father  John 
had  gone  off  beyond  earshot,)  and  changing  his  voice 
from  the  long  drawl  of  the  dry  humorist  to  a more 
business-like  tone,  — "Mr.  Henshaw,  be  plazed,  sir,  to 
step  ashore,  till  we  thry  and  lift  that  crathur  of  a blacka- 
moor out  ; he  looks  like  a mummy,  poor  sowl,  he’s  so 
quate  and  peaceable.” 

The  individual  named  Henshaw  had  been  attentively 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


115 


reading  a book,  through  a pair  of  gold  spectacles,  all  the 
time  since  the  boat  came  in  sight.  So  absorbed  indeed 
was  he  in  the  subject,  that  he  never  raised  his  eyes  even 
for  an  instant  during  all  the  previous  conversation,  not 
even  when  the  boat  first  struck  the  beach  and  shook  him 
in  his  seat. 

Come,  sir,^^  repeated  Lanty,  touching  him  on  the 
shoulder,  step  out,  if  ye  plaze  ; we  must  hurry,  or 
we^ll  be  late.^^ 

What^s  the  matter  now  ? demanded  the  individual 
in  question,  in  a deep,  gruff  voice,  raising  his  eyes,  and 
looking  about  him,  as  he  spoke. 

Lanty  again  repeated  his  request. 

Humph  ! ejaculated  the  other,  growling  out  his 
dissatisfaction  at  being  disturbed  ; and  limiting  his  reply 
to  the  monosyllable,  he  rose  slowly  up  from  his  seat,  and 
stalked  over  the  boat^s  side,  with  the  book  under  his  arm. 

It  may  be  as  well  to  say  a word  or  two  here  respecting 
this  gentleman,  since  he  happens  to  be  somewhat  con- 
cerned, — though  it  be  indirectly,  — in  the  moral  of  our 
story. 

He  was  now  a man  about  forty-five  years  of  age,  a 
Scotchman  by  birth,  and  an  old  college  chum  of  Father 
John^s.  They  had  passed  several  years  together  at  Ox- 
ford, where  they  lived  on  the  most  intimate  terms  of 
friendship,  till  the  latter  relinquished  his  studies  for  the 
bar,  and  returned  home  to  prepare  himself  for  the  priest- 
hood. Since  that  time.  Father  Brennan  had  entirely  lost 
sight  of  his  fellow-student,  and  probably  never  should 
have  thought  of  renewing  their  former  intimacy,  had  he 
not  chanced  to  see,  one  day,  in  an  English  newspaper,  a 
notice  of  the  conversion  to  the  Catholic  church  of  David 
Henshaw,  Esq.,  LL.  D.,  Barrister  at  Law,  and  a dis- 
tinguished contributor  to  the  Edinburgh  Review.  This 
led  to  the  formation  of  a close  and  intimate  correspond- 
ence between  them,  which,  after  a continuance  of  two  or 
three  years,  at  length  resulted  in  the  doctor’s  present  visit 
to  his  old  college  friend  and  classmate.  But  the  good 
•priest  was  both  disappointed  and  shocked  at  the  first 


116 


MAEY  LEE,  OE 


interview ; for  he  found  his  old  acquaintance  not  only  a 
''  stronger  and  sterner  Catholic  after  three  years^ 
matriculation,  than  he  was  himself,  though  brought  up 
almost  within  the  sanctuary,  but  so  ultra  in  all  his  views 
of  religion,  that  he  began  seriously  to  doubt  whether  the 
church  had  lost  or  gained  by  the  conversion.  Henshaw 
was  yet  but  a novice  in  the  church,  and  only  saw  her 
doctrine  under  its  severest  aspect.  Her  dogmas  and 
anathemas  were  the  only  signs  of  her  divine  power  he 
could  discover,  whilst  the  more  gentle  and  delicate  opera- 
tions of  her  spirit  on  the  hearts  of  men  were  entirely 
hidden  from  his  view.  The  consequence  was,  that  he 
regarded  her  only  in  her  coercive  capacity,  and  entirely 
overlooked  the  charity  with  which  she  exercised  it. 
Hence  Dr.  Henshaw  became  a very  despot  in  religion. 
Without  the  least  pity  for  those  who  had  grown  up  in 
the  midst  of  hereditary  prejudices  against  Catholicity, 
or  compassion  for  those  who  would  willingly  have  em- 
braced it,  if  they  could  only  be  made  to  see  their  error, 
he  consigned  all  beyond  the  pale  of  the  church  — all, 
without  exception  — to  unutterable  destruction.  Such 
was  Dr.  Henshaw.  His  head  was  Catholic,  but  his  heart 
was  that  of  a pagan  philosopher — as  cold  and  unfeeling 
as  a stone. 

After  gazing  about  him  for  a minute  or  two,  he  walked 
slowly  up  to  where  the  priest  was  standing,  and  folding 
his  arms  on  his  breast,  turned  his  face  again  to  the  beach, 
and  began  to  converse  with  his  reverend  companion. 
The  attitude  he  assumed,  and  the  air  of  self-complacency 
with  which  he  pursed  out  his  lips  when  he  spoke,  could 
hardly  fail  to  impress  the  most  careless  observer  with  the 
conviction  that  he  was  a man  quite  conscious  of  his 
mental  powers,  and  fully  alive  to  a sense  of  his  personal 
importance.  But  we  must  leave  him,  for  the  present, 
with  the  priest,  and  return  to  the  remaining  occupants 
of  the  boat. 

''  It’s  a bad  case,”  said  the  little  man  under  the  thwarts  ; 

a very  bad  case.  I’m  afraid  one  great  toe  and  two 
little  ones  are  gone  entirely.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


117 


0,  well,  sure,  if  they're  gone  atself,  your  honor,  he 
can  do  very  well  without  them,"  replied  Lanty  ; two 
or  three  toes  is  neither  here  nor  there." 

''No;  certainly  not,  in  one  respect,  I admit  — but 
this  is  an  extraordinary  case,  Lanty  ; you  can't  deny 
that.  It's  a very  deplorable  case,  and  calls  for  a world 
of  sympathy  ; " and  as  the  speaker  raised  his  eyes  up 
to  Lanty 's  face,  now  bent  over  him,  there  could  be  no 
mistaking  the  mild,  benevolent  countenance  of  Uncle 
Jerry  Guirkie. 

Lanty  looked  kindly  down  for  an  instant  on  Uncle 
Jerry's  upturned  face.  Not  a word  he  said,  for  there 
was  no  need  of  saying  any  thing  ; but  the  smile  on  his 
honest  countenance  was  more  eloquent  than  words.  It 
seemed  to  say,  as  plainly  as  looks  could  say  it,  " God 
Almighty  bless  you  for  your  kind  heart  — you're  the  best 
sowl  in  the  whole  world." 

" I hope,"  said  Uncle  Jeriy,  endeavoring  to  draw  up 
his  little  gaitered  legs  from  their  painful  posture,  stretched 
out  as  they  had  been  so  long  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat, 
— "I  hope  the  poor  fellow  may  be  nothing  the  worse  for 
the  long  voyage." 

" 0,  begorra,  there's  not  a bit  fear  of  him,"  replied 
Lanty  ; " the  crathur's  as  strong  as  a bullock.  But  isn't 
it  mighty  strange,  sir,  ye  tuck  such  a liking  to  him  all  at 
once  ? why,  one'd  think  you  had  Christians  enough  down 
there  at  the  wreck  to  take  your  pick  and  choice  iv,  instead 
of  carrying  away  a blackamoor  like  that." 

" Why,  the  difference  is  only  in  the  skin,  Lanty." 

" The  skin  ! Bedad,  sir,  and  that  atself  s no  thrifle." 

"Well,  but  he's  a Christian. 

" That  fellow  ? " 

" Yes,  indeed,  that  very  negro ; and  perhaps  a better 
Christian,  too,  than  a great  many  of  us." 

" Ha,  ha,  ha ! " laughed  Lanty,  in  spite  of  his  stoic 
gravity,  — for  he  had  never  seen  a negro  before  in  his 
life,  — " ha,  ha  ! Mr.  Guirkie,  I see  you  can  joke  as  well 
as  another.  But  come,  sir,  there's  no  time  to  lose  now  ; 
we  must  thry  to  lift  him  out  any  way,  whatever  he  is." 


118 


MABY  LEE,  OB 


''I  don^t  joke,  upon  my  honor,  Lanty.  Ile^s  really  a 
Christian/^ 

0,  it^s  no  matter ; sure  I don^t  care  a pin  about  it ; 
he^s  good  enough  in  his  own  way,  Pll  warrant.  Let  me 
help  you  out  first,  sir.^^ 

''  Nonsense,  Lanty  ; you  don^t  seem  to  believe  me  ; I 
tell  you  again,  he^s  a Christian,  like  yourself ; and  perhaps, 
if  the  truth  were  known,  a much  better  one  too/^  repeated 
Uncle  Jerry,  slightly  vexed  at  Lanty^s  incre&ulity. 

''  Well,  bedad,  yer  honor/^  replied  the  incredulous 
Lanty,  scratching  his  head,  I can^t  say  the  compliment^s 
very  flattherin,  any  way.  Feth,  maybe  it^s  in  regard  of 
his  strength  of  religion  you  like  him  so  much,  sir.^^ 

No,  not  for  that,  either.  It^s  because  one  of  his  race 
saved  my  life  once  in  Alabama,  at  the  imminent  risk 
of  his  own;  and  I made  a vow  then  never  to  forget  it  to 
the  poor  fellows  wherever  I met  them.  There^s  another 
reason,  besides.  I know  their  natures  better  than  most 
of  my  neighbors  here,  and  think  I can  nurse  him  with 
greater  comfort  to  himself  and  pleasure  to  me.^^ 

The  unfortunate  African,  of  whom  Dr.  Camberwell  had 
told  so  pitiful  a story,  was  there  indeed  in  proprio  colore, 
sitting  down  low  in  the  boat,  and  resting  his  back  against 
Uncle  Jerry ^s  breast,  while  the  kind-hearted  little  man^s 
arms  encircled  the  sufferer^s  breast  with  as  much  tender- 
ness as  if  it  were  his  own  son  he  had  rescued  from  the 
jaws  of  death,  and  was  now  bringing  back  in  triumph 
to  his  paternal  home.  In  this  affectionate  manner  he 
supported  the  poor  invalid  all  the  way  round  Araheera 
Point  from  Balleyhernan  to  Castle  Gregory,  a distance  of 
nearly  ten  miles.  Often  did  he  speak  to  him  during  the 
voyage  in  the  kindest  and  most  soothing  tones.  Carefully 
did  he  wrap  the  blankets  closer  and  closer  round  his  all 
but  naked  shoulders  and  stiffened  limbs,  and  pour  into  his 
parched  lips  a mouthful  of  cordial  from  his  leathern  pocket 
flask.  Once  only  did  the  party  stop  on  their  way,  and 
that  was  at  the  lighthouse,  to  exchange  courtesies  with 
Mr.  Leo  and  his  fair  niece,  and  inquire  after  the  little 
cabin  boy,  whom  the  latter  liad  carried  home  with  her 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


119 


that  morning*  in  her  cockle  shell  over  Lough  Ely.  At  the 
priest^ s signal,  Mary  came  running  down  the  steps  to 
greet  him,  and  receive  his  blessing,  — which  indeed 
the  good  man  seemed  to  give  with  all  the  fervor  of  his 
heart,  — whilst  Uncle  Jerry  looked  lovingly  up  in  her 
face,  stole  her  hand  back,  and  kissed  it  with  a tender 
respect  that  was  in  admirable  keeping  with  his  own 
modest  character  and  the  maiden^s  gentle  nature.  When 
the  boat  shoved  off,  the  fair  girl  ran  up  the  steps  again, 
and  stood  for  a while  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice,  under 
which  the  boat  passed,  her  face  radiant  with  smiles,  and 
her  uplifted  hand  waving  an  adieu  like  a spirit  about  to 
ascend  into  the  regions  of  air. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  voyage  hardly  a word  was 
spoken.  The  priest  and  Henshaw  had  been  discussing 
literary  subjects,  all  the  way  from  Balleyhernan  to  the 
lighthouse,  and  now,  on  resuming  their  journey,  seemed 
to  think  they  had  said  enough  for  the  present,  and  turned 
to  occupy  the  remaining  time  each  after  his  own  fashion. 
Father  John  opened  his  breviary  and  began  to  read  his 
office.  Dr.  Henshaw  drew  out  a number  of  the  Edin- 
burgh Review,^^  and  pulled  down  his  gold  spectacles 
from  the  top  of  his  head,  where  he  had  ‘put  them  out  of 
his  way.  Uncle  Jerry  gave  the  negro  a mouthful  of 
wine,  and  gathered  the  blankets  closer  round  him,  and 
Lanty  Hanlon  took  another  hitch  on  the  running  sheet, 
and  laid  himself  over  quietly  in  the  stern.  In  this  way 
the  little  party  composed  themselves  to  rest  after  the 
fatigues  of  the  morning,  wliile  the  boat  glided  slowly  up 
the  lough.  As  they  rounded  Rathmullen  Head,  however, 
an  accident  occurred  which  might  have  proved  of  serious 
consequence  to  the  whole  party. 

At  this  point  Rathmullen  Mountrdn  runs  out  into  the 
frith  till  it  almost  butts  against  Dundrem  Bluff,  on  the 
opposite  shore.  On  each  of  these  headlands  a battery 
of  some  ten  or  twelve  guns  protects  the  narrow  channel, 
and  so  strong  is  the  current  here,  particularly  at  half 
tide,  that  it  is  quite  impossible  for  a sail  boat  to  stem  it, 
except  under  a strong  breeze  from  the  mouth  of  the 


120 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


lough.  Lanty  saw  the  ebb  tide  was  beginning  to  tell 
upon  him  as  he  reached  this  spot,  and  making  the  helm 
and  slieet  fast,  he  stepped  forward  and  shipped  the  bow 
oars  to  help  him  against  the  stream  ; but  hardly  had  he 
pulled  half  a dozen  strokes,  when  a large  boat,  rowed  by 
four  stout  men  and  steered  by  a tall  old  woman,  wrapped 
in  a gray  cloak,  shot  out  from  one  of  the  dark  corners 
under  the  headland,  and  passing  the  jutting  rock,  round 
which  he  was  endeavoring  to  make  his  way,  struck  his 
little  craft  so  violently  as  almost  to  jerk  his  unsuspecting 
passengers  into  the  sea.  As  it  was,  he  lost  one  of  his 
oars,  which,  breaking  the  thole  pins,  came  within  an 
inch  of  breaking  his  own  head,  as  it  swept  round  and  fell 
overboard. 

Hah  ! cried  Lanty,  when  the  boat  righted  again 
after  the  stem  of  the  other  had  shaved  its  way  down  her 
side,  and  fell  off  across  her  stern  into  the  stream,  — 
that  was  near  nickin.^^ 

Who  are  they  ? demanded  the  priest,  turning  sud- 
denly to  look  after  the  boat. 

If  she’s  living,  that’s  Else  Curley,  of  the  Cairn,  in 
the  stern  sheets,”  replied  Lanty. 

What,  is  it  possible  ? ” 

The  very  woman,  sir  ; and  that’s  young  Barry,  the 
rebel,  beside  her.” 

He  is  a very  foolish  young  man,  I fear,”  said  the 
priest ; ^^he  must  certainly  be  caught  if  he  stay  here.” 

After  some  little  exertion,  Mr.  Guirkie  succeeded  in 
extricating  his  limbs  from  their  disagreeable  position, 
and,  with  Lanty’s  help,  found  himself  safe  at  last  on 
terra  firma.  The  three  gentlemen  then  came  together, 
to  consult  about  transporting  the  negro  to  Greenmount. 

Uncle  Jerry  was  for  sending  immediately  to  the  next 
village  for  a horse  and  cart,  and  stretching  him  on  a mat- 
tress laid  on  the  bottom  of  it.  Dr.  Henshaw,  on  the 
other  hand,  thought  he  might  do  very  well  in  the  boat 
house,  for  the  night,  with  some  clean  straw,  and  Lanty 
to  watch  with  him  ; more  especially  as  the  boat  house 
was  close  at  hand,  and  the  night  pleasant  and  warm  ; 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


121 


while  they  could  return  home  themselves,  and  send  over 
an  easy  conveyance  next  morning.  But  the  priest  was 
of  a different  opinion  from  both,  and  thought  it  much 
better  for  all  parties  to  sleep  at  Castle  Gregory.  The 
night  would  be  very  dark,^^  he  said,  '^the  roads  both 
deep  and  rutty  after  the  late  rains,  and,  besides,  ^twould 
take  two  hours,  at  least,  to  j)rocure  a suitable  convey- 
ance for  the  negro  if  they  carried  him  home,  or  for  them- 
selves if  they  left  him  behind. As  to  accommodations 
for  the  invalid,  he  had  no  doubt  Captain  Petersham  would 
cheerfully  order  him  a comfortable  berth,  and  send  his 
servants  to  carry  him  up  to  the  castle.  After  some 
objections  on  the  part  of  Uncle  Jerry,  on  the  score  of 
delay  and  the  immediate  necessity  for  medical  attend- 
ance, — objections  which  we  fear  very  much  were  a little 
aggravated  by  the  dread  of  Mrs.  Motherly^s  grave  dis- 
pleasure at  his  long  absence,  — and  on  the  part  of  Dr. 
Henshaw,  against  what  he  called  an  unpardonable  in- 
trusion into  a gentleman^s  family,  particularly  at  so  late 
an  hour,  and  accompanied,  as  they  were,  by  a notorious 
poacher  and  a half-dead  negro,  hawking  the  latter 
aboot  all  day,^^  he  added  gruffly,  ^Mn  a most  absurd  and 
redeeculous  manner,  from  house  to  house  and  rock  to 
rock,  till  he  expected  the  whole  country  round  should 
ring  with  it  for  the  next  twalve-month  to  come  — after 
these  objections,  we  say,  were  made  and  disposed  of,  the 
party,  at  last,  concluded  to  leave  the  negro  with  Lanty, 
in  the  boat  house,  and  put  up  at  Castle  Gregor^  for  the 
night.  Accordingly,  they  advanced  to  the  house,  and 
Father  John,  raising  the  knocker,  knocked  loudly  on  the 
door. 


11 


122 


MABY  LEE,  OB 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Being  the  shortest  Chapter  in  the  Book,  is  devoted  exclu- 
sively to  Mr,  Weeks, 

Mr.  Ephraim  Weeks,  as^the  reader  may  have  already 
suspected,  came  to  Ireland  to  speculate  in  matrimony. 
He  left  home  with  a cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  stepped 
aboard  the  packet  as  she  moved  past  the  wharf,  with  as 
careless  and  indifferent  an  air  as  if  he  were  dropping 
down  to  Sandy  Hook  to  visit  a friend.  As  to  meeting 
with  any  serious  obstacle,  in  a country  whose  inhabit- 
ants, to  take  them  in  the  lump,  were  no  better  than 
South  Sea  Islanders,  he  never  dreamed  of  it  for  a mo- 
ment : why  should  he  ? He  knew  what  the  Irish  were, 
every  soul  of  them,  and  could  read'  them  through  as  he 
could  the  alphabet.  He  met  them  on  the  wharves,  on 
the  railroads,  on  the  steamboats,  in  the  police  offices, 
saw  them  dramatized  on  the  stage,  tried  at  the  bar,  and 
dissected  in  the  pulpit.  In  a word,  he  knew  what  they 
were  at  home  in  Ireland,  just  as  well  as  if  he  had  been 
living  with  them  there  all  his  lifetime.  What  had  he  to 
fear  ? He  had  succeeded  so  far  in  various  speculations 
in  New  England,  and  how  could  he  possibly  fail  in  a land 
of  such  ignorance  and  beggary  as  Ireland  ? To  be  sure, 
there  must  necessarily  be  some  intelligent  men  in  the 
country  — it  could  not  well  be  otherwise  — but  what  of 
that  ? there  were  no  smart  men  amongst  them.  Smartness 
to  him  was  every  thing.  It  was  the  embodiment  of  all  the 
virtues,  moral  and  intellectual  — the  only  quality  for  which 
man  deserved  admiration  or  respect.  The  estimate  he 
formed  of  his  neighbor’s  moral  worth  was  not  in  propor- 
tion to  his  integrity  of  character,  but  to  his  ability  for 
speculating  and  driving  hard  bargains.  The  man  who  con- 
tented himself  with  a competence  and  a quiet  life  at  home 
he  despised ; but  the  jobber  in  stocks,  who  was  smart 
enough  to  make  a lucky  hit  on  ’change,  though  he  risked 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


123 


half  a dozen  men’s  fortunes  on  the  chance,  was  the  man 
after  his  heart.  Such  were  Mr.  Weeks’s  sentiments. 
Nor  was  he  much  to  blame  for  them  either  ; for  he  was 
bred  and  born  in  the  midst  of  speculators.  Every  man 
he  met  in  the  street,  from  the  newsboy  to  the  judge, 
from  the  policeman  to  the  governor,  was  a speculator  in 
something.  He  began  himself,  in  his  very  infancy,  to 
speculate  in  marbles  and  hobby-horses  ; and  if  he  made 
but  a cent  a week,  his  father  patted  him  on  the  head, 
and  prophesied  his  future  greatness.  When  arrived  at 
man’s  estate,  he  found  himself  in  the  company  of  young 
men,  whose  sole  study  was  to  make  money  in  the  easiest 
manner  and  shortest  time.  He  saw  them  everywhere 
engaged  in  some  kind  of  traffic,  — no  matter  what,  if  it 
only  happened  to  be  profitable.  Whilst  in  other  coun- 
tries each  grade  in  the  community  had  its  own  legitimate 
trades  and  occupations,  it  was  the  very  reverse  in  the 
States.  There  it  was  a universal  scramble,  in  which 
everybody  snatched' at  what  came  handiest.  The  tailor 
dropped  his  needle  and  mounted  the  stump  ; the  lawyer 
burned  his  briefs  to  trade  in  molasses  ; the  shoemaker 
stuck  his  awl  in  the  bench  and  ascended  the  pulpit  ; and 
the  shopboy  flung  his  yardstick  on  the  counter  and  went 
off  to  edit  a Sunday  newspaper.  Surrounded  on  all 
sides  by  such  influences,  what  could  Mr.  Weeks  have 
possibly  been  but  what  he  was  — a speculator  in  chances 
— a man  of  one  idea — one  object — one  aspiration  — 
money  ? Learning  was  nothing  in  his  estimation,  if  it 
failed  to  realize  money ; nay,  the  highest  mental  accom- 
plishment was  not  only  valueless,  but  contemptible  with- 
out money.  In  this  respect  Mr.  Weeks  represented  a 
large  class  of  his  countrymen  of  New  England  ; — we  say 
a class,  for  it  would  be  unjust  to  say  more.  He  was  not 
an  American  gentleman,  by  any  means,  either  in  habits 
or  education.  That  was  plain  the  instant  he  spoke  a 
word  or  moved  a muscle,  and  those  of  his  fellow-citizens 
who  could  rightfully  claim  that  distinction  would  never 
have  recognized  him  as  one  of  their  number.  He  was, 
in  short,  a Yankee,  — a man  to  be  met  with  every  day 


124 


MABY  LEE,  OR 


arid  every  where  — on  the  sidewalks  — at  the  banks  — 
in  the  theatre  ^ — in  the  cars  — standing  at  hotel  doors 
picking  his  teeth — selling  soap  at  cattle  shows  — or 
lobb^dng  for  a patent  right  behind  his  agent^s  back  in 
the  Senate  House.  But  to  return. 

With  such  views  and  sentiments  as  we  have  here 
ascribed  to  Mr.  Weeks,  it  may  be  easily  conceived  with 
what  assurance  of  success  he  landed  in  Ireland,  and 
with  what  confidence  he  entered  on  his  plans  and  specu- 
lations. The  possession  of  Mary  Lee  as  his  lawful 
wedded  wife  was  the  great  secret  of  his  journey.  Why 
it  was  so  the  sequel  must  tell.  It  appears,  however,  he 
had  but  a limited  time  to  accomplish  his  designs  ; for 
hardly  had  he  reached  Crohan,  when  he  called  to  see 
Else  Curley.  The  reputation  she  had  acquired,  all  the 
country  round,  and  the  wonderful  stories  told  of  her 
power  over  the  spirits  of  the  nether  world,  led  him  to 
think  he  could  win  her  to  his  interest  by  tempting  her 
cupidity,  and  that  she,  as  a secret  agent,  might  do  what 
it  would  otherwise  require  a long  courtship  to  effect. 
How  his  expectations  were  met  in  this  respect,  will  be 
seen  in  due  course  of  the  story.  For  the  present  we 
must  leave  him  to  battle  with  the  storm  as  best  he  may, 
after  his  desperate  but  disastrous  rencontre  with  Nan- 
nie,^^  and  follow  Else  and  the  stranger  to  the  Cairn. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


125 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  Outlaw^ s Interview  with  Else  Curley.  — Her  Hatred 
of  the  HardwrinkleSj  and  its  Cause.  — Barry  evades 
the  detective  Officers. 

When  Else  had  placed  a rush  light  in  the  wooden 
candlestick  affixed  to  her  spinning  wheel,  and  thrown 
off  her  gray  cloak,  she  drew  a small  silver-mounted 
pistol  from  her  bosom,  and  laying  it  on  the  table,  mo- 
tioned the  young  man  to  a seat. 

How  come  ye  here.  Master  Randall,  at  this  hour  ? 
she  demanded. 

The  fates  drove  me,  I suppose, replied  her  guest, 
smiling. 

Psaugh  ! — this  is  no  time  to  play  the  fool ; — why 
are  ye  here,  I say  ? drawing  down  her  shaggy  eye- 
brows, and  looking  sternly  at  him  as  she  spoke. 

Why,  how  now  ! exclaimed  the  stranger  ; is 
Nannie  sick,  or  old  Batt^s  fiddle  broke,  that  you’re  so 
much  out  of  sorts  ? ” 

Master  Randall,  look  at  that  weapon,”  said  Else. 
I risked  my  life  for  yer  sake  and  hers  within  this  fery 
hour,  and  carried  that  with  me  to  defend  it.  1 made 
this  Yankee  feel  he  was  in  my  power,  and  for  that  raison 
didn’t  know  the  minute  he’d  silence  my  tongue  forever 
with  a pistol  ball  or  a dirk  knife.  Now,  I ask  ye,  is  it 
manly  in  ye,  after  this,  to  come  back  here  again  to  idle 
away  yer  time,  tryin  to  get  a word  or  a look  at  this 
silly  girl,  when  it’s  in  Dublin  or  Cork  ye’d  ought  to  be 
strivin  to  keep  her  and  her  uncle  out  iv  the  walls  of 
a jail.  Hoot,  toot,  sir,  I thought  there  was  more  i’  the 
man  in  ye.” 

Well,  of  that,”  replied  Randall,  (for  we  must  call  him 
so  in  future,)  of  that  I can  say  little  ; but  be  assured. 
Else,  no  trifling  obstacle  could  balk  me  on  such  an  errand. 
Nothing  but  absolute  necessity  compelled  me  to  return.” 

11  * 


126 


MARY  LEE,  OK 


Necessity  I 

Yes.  The  police  headed  me  off  below  Burnfoot, 
after  landing  from  the  ferry,  at  Rathmullan,  and  chased 
me  through  Buncrana  to  Lambert’s  Point,  where  you 
brought  the  boat  to  my  relief.” 

So  ye  escaped  in  the  skiff,  yesterday,  I suppose,  from 
Dunree.” 

Yes  ; just  had  time  to  jump  in,  cut  the  painter,  and 
shove  off,  when  three  of  my  pursuers  sprang  down  after 
me  on  the  beach.” 

And  fired  ? ” 

One  of  them,  only.  The  ball  hit  me  on  the  head, 
but  did  no  harm.” 

Humph  ! ” said  Else,  sitting  down  slowly  on  her  low 
creepie  stool,”  and  so  the  bloodhounds  got  on  yer 
trail,  after  all.” 

Yes,  fairly  started  me,”  responded  Randall  ; when 
they’ll  run  me  down,  however,  remains  yet  to  be  seen.” 

It  looks  strange,”  said  Else,  half  speaking  to  her- 
self. 

What  ? ” 

How  they  knew  ye  in  that  disguise.” 

It  does  look  a little  strange,  I must  confess,”  replied 
Randall ; for  I thought  it  impenetrable  to  every  eye 
but  those  of  Else  Curley  and  Mary  Lee.  Judge  of  my 
astonishment,  then,  when  I beheld  straight  before  me,  on 
the  first  public  house  door  I passed,  a full  length  figure 
of  myself  in  this  very  dress.” 

Tell  me,”  said  Else,  after  a moment’s  reflection, 
didn’t  ye  wear  that  dress  ornst  at  Father  John’s  ? ” 

I did  ; but  it  was  night  then,  and  no  one  saw  me 
except  the  priest  and  his  housekeeper.” 

''  Don’t  be  too  sure  i’  that.  Master  Randall.” 

Quite  sure.” 

Humph ! didn’t  ye  tell  me  about  passin  somebody 
that  night,  on  the  road  near  Crohan  gate  house,  that 
seemed  to  look  sharp  at  ye  ? ” 

''  Crohan  gate  house  — let  me  see.  Yes,  I remember 
now.  0,  that  was  some  traveller  — I suspect.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


12T 


Was  he  a tall,  thin,  dark  lookin  man  ? 

Yes,  rather/^ 

Wore  crape  on  his  hat  ? ” 

Yes/^ 

I thought  so/^ 

Who  was  he  ? 

''  Robert  Hardwrinkle,  of  Crohan/^ 

What ! your  great  enemy  — this  Yankee^s  cousin  ? 
That  very  Yankee^s  cousin.  He^s  the  man  that  be- 
thrayed  ye.^^ 

No,  no.  Else,  you  must  be  mistaken.  Mr.  Hard- 
wrinkle^s  a gentleman,  and  could  never  be  guilty  of  so 
treacherous  an  act.^^ 

Cudn^t  he  ? 

''No,  Else,  it^s  nothing  but  your  inveterate  hatred  of 
the  man  makes  you  suspect  him.^^ 

" Hoot,  toot.  Master  Randall ; don^t  be  foolish, re- 
plied Else.  " I know  what  he  is,  kith  and  kin,  for  three- 
score j^'ears  an  more.  Ay,  ay,  to  my  own  grief  I know 
him.  But  let  him  look  to  himself,  for  the  timers  not 
far  away  when  the  long  recknin  at  ween  him  and  me  must 
be  settled  — let  him  look  to  himself. 

"Do  the  man  no  harm  on  my  account,’^  said  Randall  ; 
"if  he  has  really  sent  these  officers  on  my  track,  it^s 
only  what  a thousand  others  had  done  with  as  little 
shame  or  scruple.  For  my  part,  I forgive  him,  nor 
would  I hurt  a hair  of  his  head  this  moment  if  he  lay  at 
my  feet.^^ 

" 0,  forgive  him,  an  welcome, said  Else,  " since  yer 
so  good  a Christian  ; forgive  him,  by  all  manes.  Fm 
sure  it^s  none  o’  my  business  if  ye  forgive  him,  and 
marry  his  lean  sister  Rebecca,  the  psalm-singer,  too, 
into  the  bargain.  All  I say  is,  let  him  be  ready  ; for 
there’s  an  account  atween  him  and  me  that  nothing  but 
his  cowardly  blood  can  settle.” 

" Why,  Else,  this  is  sheer  madness,”  said  Randall, 
reprovingly.  " How  is  it  the  very  thought  of  this  man 
inflames  your  resentment  so  much.” 

" So  well  it  might,”  responded  Else,  raising  her  head 


128 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


and  folding  her  arms  on  her  hard,  weather-beaten  breast, 
as  she  looked  across  the  table  at  her  companion.  So 
well  it  might.  Listen  to  me,  Randall  Barry.  If  this 
man^s  father  first  brought  your  only  sister  to  sin  an 
shame,  and  then  sent  yer  brother  to  die  with  irons  on 
his  limbs  in  a strange  land,  for  no  other  earthly  raison 
than  because  he  demanded  satisfaction  for  the  injury  done 
his  own  flesh  and  blood  — if  he  turned  out  yer  mother, 
ould  and  helpless,  from  the  homestead  she  was  born  in, 
and  her  people  afore  her,  for  three  generations  — when 
the  father  died,  if  the  son  sent  yerself  to  jail  twiste  in 
five  years  on  false  charges  — when  ye  came  out  and 
built  with  yer  own  hands  a sheelin  to  shelter  ye  from  the 
storms  on  these  blake  mountains,  if  he  burnt  it  over  yer 
head  — ay,  and  if  he  driv  ye  at  last,  Randall  Barry,  as 
he  druv  me,  to  burrow  here  lake  the  ^ brock  ’ on  the 
crags  of  Benraven,  — I ask  ye,  would  ye  forgive  him, 
if  he  did  that  to  you  an  yours  ? An  ye  felt  his  neck 
undher  yer  heel,  wudn^t  ye  crush  it  down  — down  in 
the  dust  with  as  little  pity  as  ye^d  feel  for  the  wasp  that 
stung  ye  ? 

^ ''  Not  replied  Randall,  not  I.  To  kill  even  an 
enemy,  whom  you  happen  to  find  in  your  power,  is  an 
act  of  cowardly  murder.  And,  believe  me.  Else,  your 
own  sleep  would  be  none  the  sounder  in  the  grave  for 
having  this  man^s  blood  upon  your  hands  ? 

''  And  yet,^^  retorted  Else,  ''  you  and  yer  companions 
id  stain  yer  hands  with  the  blood  iv  thousands,  that  did 
ye  far  less  wrong  than  he  did  me.’^ 

Perhaps  so  ; but  in  broad  daylight,  at  least ; not 
assassin-like,  in  the  dark.^’ 

I see  no  difference, replied  Else,  night  or  day  — 
it^s  only  death. 

''  Ay,  but  surely  iPs  a less  crime  to  put  the  enemies 
of  your  country  and  of  human  liberty  to  death  in  a 
fair  field  and  open  fight,  than  to  commit  a midnight 
murder  like  a cutthroat  or  incendiary,  with  the  dirk  or 
the  brand. 

Who  spoke  of  dirk  or  brand  ? demanded  Else. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


129 


\ 


*'You  did/^  replied  Randall,  promptly.  ''You  did  a 
dozen  times  within  the  month.  And  now  my  fear  is, 
your  new  charge  against  this  man  will  bring  down  your 
long-threatened  vengeance  on  his  head  sooner  than  I 
anticipated.  But  hear  me.  Else  Curley,  — 

" Hould  yer  tongue,  Randall  Barry, interrupted  the 
old  woman,  " hould  yer  tongue  ; yer  but  a silly  boy. 
Pshaugh  ! it^s  little  ye  know  iv  Else  Curley  i^  the 
' Cairn. ^ What ! ye  think  after  waitin  and  watchin  for 
my  hour  of  revenge  so  many  long  years,  Fd  bungle  it 
now  for  your  sake  ? Ha  ! ha  ! poor  foolish  boy  ! D^ye 
think  a woman  like  me,  that  fursaked  God  an  salvation 
thirty  odd  years  ago,  for  fear  theyM  come  atween  her 
and  her  dark  thoughts  — a woman  whose  hopes  iv  ven- 
geance, day  after  day,  were  like  draps  iv  new  life  blood 
to  her  withered  heart  — d^ye  think  an  outcast  like  me, 
a bein  that  men  dread  to  look  on,  an  women  spake  of 
undher  their  breath,  wud  drag  out  life  as  I did,  for 
no  other  raison  or  motive,  but  waitin  patiently  for  my 
hour  to  come  ? D’ye  think,  I say,  Randall  Barry,  I^d 
let  the  paltry  matter  of  his  bethrayin  you  to  the  spies 
of  the  Castle  bring  down  the  blow  one  minute  sooner 
than  it  ought  to  fall  ? Pshaugh  ! man,  ye  don^t  know 
me  yet.^^ 

" I know  you  to  be  a dangerous  woman, responded 
Randall,  rising  from  his  chair,  and  buckling  his  belt 
tighter  round  his  waist,  as  if  preparing  to  leave.  " But 
I warn  you,^^  he  continued,  " I warn  you  I shall  be  no 
party  to  this  contemplated  murder  ; and,  much  as  you 
have  befriended  me.  Else  Curley,  I shall,  nevertheless, 
do  all  in  my  power  to  thwart  your  wicked  designs. 
Rebel  and  felon  as  I am,  I shall  never  abet  or  connive 
at  murder,  notwithstanding.^^ 

' " And  what  then  ? again  demanded  Else  — " wud  ye 
turn  informer  ? 

" Assuredly  — the  instant  you  attempt  to  execute  your 
hellish  purpose. 

" Then,^^  cried  Else,  snatching  the  pistol  from  the 
table,  and  raising  up  her  tall  form  from  the  low  stool  on 


130 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


which  she  sat,  till  she  stood  erect  as  a statue  before  the 
young  outlaw,  her  gray  eyes  flashing  fire  and  the 
muscles  of  her  face  quivering  with  emotion  as  she  spoke, 

I swear  to  ye,^’  she  cried,  holding  up  the  weapon  in  her 
fleshless  hand,  I swear  by  them  heavens  I niver  expect 
to  enther,  if  ye  were  my  own  born  son,  Eandall  Barry, 
an  attempt  to  save  that  man  from  the  clutches  i^  my 
vengeance,  ye^ll  die  the  death. 

((  Tigress, muttered  Eandall  between  his  teeth,  as 
he  threw  on  his  sea  cap  and  turned  to  quit  the  cabin. 

Tigress,  I despise  your  threats. 

Stop,^’  said  Else,  stepping  back  and  leaning  against 
the  door  ; stop,  young  man,  and  listen  to  me.  It^s 
now  fifty  long  years  since  yer  grandfather.  Lieutenant 
Dick  Barry,  saved  my  life  at  the  risk  of  his  own.  It 
was  the  day  Colonel  Clinton  took  Madeira.  Pie  carried 
me  in  his  own  arms  from  the  spot  where  my  husband 
fell.  I made  a vow  then  on  my  knees  afore  God,  if 
iver  it  come  in  my  way  to  befriend  him  or  his,  IM 
do  it.^^ 

/'I  release  you  from  your  vow, said  Eandall ; 'Met 
me  pass.^^ 

" Be  silent,  boy,  and  listen  to  me  again, cried  Else. 
" Youfll  not  pass  here  till  I spake.  Listen  to  me.  I 
love  Mary  Lee  more  nor  iver  I loved  woman  afore,  barrin 
the  sister  that  died  from  me,  in  shame  an  a broken  heart. 
Ay,  she  died  in  these  withered  arms  ; she  died  laiighin, 
Eandall  Barry,  for  she  died  mad  — mad  — mad;  she 
died  with  the  bloom  of  seventeen  still  on  her  cheeks. 
Listen  to  me.  I love  Mary  Lee  more  nor  iver  I loved 
woman  but  her  ; and  well  I might,  too,  for  it  was  these 
hands  saved  her  from  the  wrack  of  the  Saldana  ; it  was 
these  hands  untwisted  her  arms  from  her  dead  mother^s 
neck,  among  the  rocks  of  Araheera;  and  it  was  these 
hands  nursed  her  on  Nannie^s  milk  for  eighteen  months, 
till  them  came  to  claim  her  that  had  the  right  to  claim 
her.  0,  no  wondher  she^s  dear  t^  me  ; no  wondher  Pd 
watch  her  an  guard  her  like  the  apple  of  my  eye.  But 
still,  much  as  I love  her,  an  much  as  I love  yerself, 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


131 


Randall  Barry,  for  yer  granfather^s  sake,  still,  I say,  as 
there^s  a heaven  above  me,  Vd  j’ather  see  ye  both  dead 
at  my  feet  this  minute,  than  part  with  the  hope  of  payin 
back  the  Hardwrinkles,  mother  an  son,  for  the  wrongs 
they  did  to  me  an  mine.  Ha,  ha ! laughed  the  old 
woman  bitterly,  as  she  grew  more  and  more  excited  ; 

ha  ! ha  1 they  burned  my  cabin  twiste  to  the  groun,  and 
driv  me  out  to  sleep  at  night  with  the  black  cock  an  the 
plover,  an  to  wandher  by  day  over  the  dreary  mountains, 
hungry  and  barefoot ; but  their  hour^ll  soon  come.  Ay, 
ay,  Fll  be  even  with  them  yit.  Ha  ! ha  I let  them  look 
to  themselves ; the  blind  fiddler^s  wife,  the  worker  of 
spells  and  charms,  the  woman  thatM  sell  her  soul  for 
money,  ould  Else  Curley  the  ' Cairn, ^ has  strength  an 
courage  enough  left  yit  to  handle  a dirk  or  fire  a fagot. 

Randall  gazed  at  her  with  astonishment  as  she  spoke. 
Her  person  seemed  to  dilate  and  grow  younger  as  her 
face  swelled  with  passion.  She  had  broken,  with  a sud- 
den snap,  the  string  that  confined  her  cap,  to  relieve  her 
throat  from  a sense  of  suffocation ; and  now,  as  her  short 
gray  hair  fell  in  tufts  over  her  forehead  and  cheeks,  she 
looked  like  a pythoness,  breathless  under  the  frenzy  of 
inspiration. 

My  God,^^  said  Randall,  still  gazing  at  her  as  she 
stood  before  him,  is  it  possible  that  so  much  gratitude 
and  love  can  exist  in  the  same  breast  with  such  demoniac 
hatred  for  a fellow-creature  ? Here  is  a woman  — ay,  a 
very  woman  — who  has  lived  since  before  I was  born 
on  the  bare  hope  of  being  one  day  able  to  revenge  her 
wrongs.  That  hope  was  the  only  ray  of  consolation  that 
ever  fell  on  her  desolate  heart.  How  great  must  have 
been  her  injuries  to  have  earned  so  terrible  a resentment  I 
And  yet  this  creature  loves  Mary  Lee  like  a mother, 
and  already  has  risked  her  life,  more  than  once,  to  save 
mine.^^ 

Else,^^  said  he,  at  length,  laying  his  hand  kindly  on 
her  shoulder,  I pity  you  from  my  heart.  Sit  down  and 
compose  yourself.  I would  speak  with  you  more  rea- 
sonably on  this  subject. 


132 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


She  obeyed  him  instantly,  for  the  touch  of  his  friend- 
ly hand  softened  her  moxe  than  words  could  have  done. 

"'Tell  me,^^  said  Randall,  "is  this  Yankee,  this  cousin 
of  the  Hardwrinkles,  to  be  included  in  the  catastrophe  ? 

" No /^‘replied  Else. 

" What  business  have  you  with  him,  then  ? 

" I make  use  iv  him  to  sarve  my  own  ends  — nothin 
more.^^ 

"And  these  are — 

" First,  that  heM  supply  me  with  money  for  thravellin 
expenses ; an,  secondly,  that  he^d  be  an  excuse  for  drawin 
me  about  Crohan,  to  watch  my  chances. 

" Ha  ! I understand  you.  But  the  travelling  expenses 
— where  — ? 

" Connecticut,  or  wheriver  else  he  came  from.  We 
must  send  a thrusty  messenger  to  make  out  where  he 
lives,  and  ye  may  be  sure  Edward  TalboFs  not  far  from 
that.^^ 

" So  you^l  employ  his  own  money  to  defeat  him  ? 

" Of  coorse,*^  replied  Else. 

" And  why,  then,  did  you  acquaint  him  with  your 
knowledge  of  the  secret  ? 

" That  he^d  pay  me  the  betther  for  keepin  it.^^ 

" Good ; but  are  you  sure  heTl  not  feel  apprehensive 
of  your  disclosing  it  to  Mary  or  her  uncle  ? 

" Not  the  laste  in  the  worl,^^  replied  Else. 

" Still,  the  whole  affair  is  but  mere  suspicion,  after 
all.^^ 

" What  ? about  Mr.  Talbot  bein  alive  ? ” 

" Yes.'^ 

"Well,  call  it  whatsomiver  name  ye  plaze,  it^s  sartinty 
enough  for  me.  I niver  thought  any  thing  else  but  that 
he  was  livin  somewhere  in  furrin  parts. 

" And  how  will  you  account  for  this  Yankee^s  corre- 
spondent speaking  of  the  dying  man  as  Lambton  in  that 
letter  of  his  you  picked  up  after  he  left  the  cabin  here  ? 
How  can  you  account  for  that,  if  he  be  really  Edward 
Talbot 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


133 


Quite  easy/^  responded  Else.  ''  It  was  the  name  he 
went  by  in  America. 

Nonsense,  woman ! you  make  the  most  absurd  and 
ridiculous  suppositions  ; would  you  have  him  change  his 
name  with  his  country  ? 

Feth  wud  I,  an  good  reason  he  had  to  do  that  same, 
let  me  tell  you.  Didn^t  he  fire  a pistol  bullet  at  his  wife 
in  her  own  room,  with  the  child  in  her  arms,  the  very 
same  evenin  he  come  home  after  killing  Captain  Blenher- 
hasset  in  a dewel  that  his  own  infarnal  jealousy  driv  him 
to  fight  for  her  sake  ; an  was  there  a corner  in  London 
nixt  day  that  hadn’t  a bill  posted  up  on  it,  offerin  a re- 
ward of  a thousand  pound  to  the  first  man  ’id  take  him  ? 
Humph  ! raison  indeed  ; bedad,  I think  that  ’id  surely  be 
raison  enough  for  any  man  to  change  his  name  wheriver 
he  went.  No,  no,  Masther  Eandall,  Edward  Talbot’s 
livin  jist  as  sure  as  you’re  livin,  if  he  didn’t  die  since  the 
first  iv  May  last ; an  that  very  Lambton  he  writes  about 
is  the  man.  Whether  he  gives  himself  that  name  for  fear 
the  letter  might  fall  into  other  hands,  or  whether  Mr. 
Talbot  took  the  name  himself,  I can’t  tell  — but  ye  may 
depind  on  it  Lambton’s  the  man.’’ 

Perhaps  so.” 

0,  feen  a doubt  of  it ; and  ye’ll  see  that  too,  when 
Lanty  comes  back.” 

What,  Lanty  Hanlon  ? ” 

"'Ay,  Lanty  Hanlon  ; ye  heard  of  him,  I suppose.” 

" And  saw  him,  too.  Don’t  you  remember  to  have 
recommended  him  to  me  two  or  three  weeks  ago,  as  a 
trusty  messenger  to  send  on  a certain  important  business 
to  Derry  ? ” 

" And  ye  sent  him  ? ” 

" Certainly.” 

" Well  ? ” 

" Well,  he  broke  trust  at  the  very  outset.” 

" Lanty  Hanlon  ! ” 

" Ay,  Lanty  Hanlon.  Instead  of  crossing  the  lough 
at  Doughbeg,  he  strolled  down  the  shore  to  Ballymas- 
tocker,  to  see  a cockfight,  and  missed  the  tide.” 

12 


134 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


0,  feth,  as  to  that/^  said  Else,  ''  I wudn’t  put  it  past 
him.  He^s  the  very  ould  lad  himself  in  regard  to  cock- 
fighting.^^ 

Yes ; but  he  was  made  well  aware  of  .the  urgency 
of  the  message,  and  should  have  postponed  his  personal 
gratification  till  his  return. 

Postpone,  indeed!  In  troth.  Master  Eandall,  he^d 
postpone  goin  to  heaven,  if  there  wus  a cockfight  fithin 
five  miles  of  him  ; that  an  huntin\s  his  wakeness,  poor 
fellow.  An  what  excuse  did  he  make  when  he  came 
back  ? ’’ 

He  never  came  back  to  make  any.  Instead  of  that, 
he  sent  me  word  he  was  in  the  hands  of  the  police  for 
beating  a gamekeeper,  and  would  see  me  as  soon  as  he 
got  clear. 

'^Humph!^^  said  Else,  ^^thaPs  another  of  his  wake- 
nesses.^^ 

''It^s  rather  an  odd  kind  of  weakness, said  Eandall, 
laughing. 

''  Well,  iPs  natural  for  him,  poor  fellow,  any  way  ; the 
whole  breed  of  him  hated  gamekeepers  for  five  genera- 
tions back.  And  so  the  man  was  too  many  for  him?  ’’ 

No,  he  made  his  escape  then,  but  the  police  caught 
him  next  day.  It  appears  on  his  return  he  crossed  the 
mountain  with  his  dogs,  and  met  Lord  Leitrim ^s  game- 
keepers,  who  gave  him  chase.  Two  of  them  he  dis- 
tanced, and  the  third  he  led  into  some  lonely  spot,  beat 
him  there  soundly,  and  then  left  him  gagged  with  his 
own  handkerchief,  and  tied  neck  and  heels  to  an  old 
hawthorn  tree  beside  a well,  where  he  was  found  next 
morning,  half  dead  from  cold  and  hunger. 

^^IPs  jist  like  him,’^  said  Else,  ''for  the  villain^s  niver 
out  of  mischief.  But  still  he^s  as  true  as  steel  when  ye 
keep  him  away  from  timptation.^^ 

"And  how  is  that  to  be  done,  pray?  Will  he  not 
meet  with  as  much  temptation  on  his  way  to  the  United 
States  and  back,  as  he  does  here  in  the  parish  of  Clon- 
davadoc  ? ^^ 

" Not  he,^^  replied  Else  ; " Pll  trust  him  for  that.  The 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


135 


minute  he  finds  it’s  on  Mary  Lee’s  affairs  he’s  goin,  the 
sarpint  himself  wudn’t  timpt  him.  But/’  she  added, 
correcting  herself,  I’m  not  sure  yit  whither  he’ll  have 
to  go  at  all  or  not ; may  be  somethin  might  turn  up  to 
save  the  journey  and  the  expinse  too.  It’s  well  to  be 
prepared,  any  way,  you  know.” 

''  Certainly.  But  is  Lanty  so  devoted  to  Mary  as  you 
say  ? ” 

He’d  lay  down  his  life  for  her  every  day  i’  the  year. 
There’s  not  a livin  thing  he  loves  like  her  in  the  whole 
work” 

Possible  ? ” 

Didn’t  ye  know  it  ? He  cud  sit  lookin  at  her  from 
mornin  to  night,  an  niver  be  dry  or  hungr}^  And  it’s  a 
mighty  queer  notion,  too,  he  has  about  her.” 

What’s  that?” 

'"Why,  he  thinks  it  ’id  be  a sin  to  love  her  as  he’d 
love  any  other  girl.” 

How  so  ? ” 

Bekase  she’s  so  good,  he  says.  And  it’s  all  come 
of  a drame  he  had  onst  about  the  Blissed  Virgin.  — Och, 
och,”  said  Else,  suddenly  interrupting  herself,  an  many 
a purty  drame  I had  of  her  myself  in  my  young  days, 
when  I ust  to  wear  her  scappler,  and  gather  the  May 
flowers  for  her  alther ; but  them  things  is  all  over  now. 
I can  niver  drame  or  pray  to  her  again,  for  the  black 
thoughts  druv  her  image  out  iv  my  heart  fer  ivermore. 
And  Mary  Lee,  too,  the  poor  child,  whin  she  spakes  to 
me  sometimes  of  an  evenin,  sittin  out  here  on  the  hill 
side,  about  the  marcy  of  Christ,  and.  the  bright  heavens 
above,  an  the  goodness  of  God  to  them  that  repent,  her 
words  and  looks  made  me  tremble  all  over  like  a windle 
straw.  — But,  as  I was  saying,”  she  continued,  wiping 
her  face  with  her  apron,  as  if  to  brush  away  every  thing 
that  could  blunt  in  the  slightest  degree  her  keen  and 
long-cherished  resentment, — ''as  I was  tellin  ye  about 
Lanty  ; he  had  a drame  one  night,  when  he  thought  the 
Blissed  Virgin  come  to  him  houldin  Mary  Lee  by  the 


136 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


hand,  and  tould  him  to  watch  her  an  take  care  of  her  as 
long  as  he  lived,  on  her  account/^ 

A delightful  illusion,  I must  confess,^^  said  Eandall. 

I^m  not  a Catholic,  you  know.  Else,  but  there  is  a poe- 
try in  the  Catholic  conception  of  the  attributes  of  the 
Virgin  which  always  had  an  inexpressible  charm  for  me. 
I once  saw  a beautiful  little  beggar  girl  at  Florence, 
kneeling  before  one  of  her  shrines,  her  hands  and  eyes 
raised  in  mute  supplication  for  the  crippled  mother  who 
sat  by  her  side,  and  I thought  I had  never  seen  a finer 
picture  of  religion  in  my  life.^^ 

''Well,  well,  dear,’^  ejaculated  Else;  "I  don^t  know 
any  thing  about  such  picthers  now ; I ust  once,  but  that 
timers  gone.  But,  as  I was  sayin,  since  he  dramed  that 
drame  of  the  Blissed  Virgin  (God  forgive  me  for  mintion- 
in  her  name)  and  Mary  Lee,  he  can^t  think  of  one  with- 
out the  ither,  an  ivery  wish  of  Mary^s  is  like  a command 
to  him  from  heaven/^ 

" How  very  extraordinary  ! said  Randall. 

" The  drame  ? 

" No,  but  that  every  one^s  so  peculiarly  affected  by 
the  words  and  looks  of  this  girl.^^ 

" Well,  it^s  jist  the  same  with  the  children  she  taches 
the  Christen  docthrin  to  down  there  in  her  little  chapel 
undher  the  rock  ; theyM  pit  their  very  heads  undher  her 
feet ; an  what^s  quarest  of  all,  there^s  a dog  in  the  town 
there  below  that  tears  ivery  body  he  can  get  a hoult  of — 
the  crossest  animal  iver  run  on  four  feet ; well,  that  dog, 
the  first  minute  he  seen  her,  crooched  at  her  feet,  and 
kissed  her  hand,  jist  as  if  she  fed  him  with  it  all  his  life- 
time ; and  iver  since,  as  soon  as  he  sees  her,  he  runs 
away  whinin  afther  her,  and  niver  quits  her  company  till 
he  leaves  her  at  the  lighthouse  gate.^^ 

" And  old  Drake,  too,  is  very  fond  of  her,^'  observed 
Randall. 

" Hoot ! as  for  Drake,  replied  Else,  " Drake  can  read 
her  countenance  betther  nor  you  or  I can.  He  knows 
who  she  likes  an  disn^t  like  the  minute  he  sees  them. 
Sure,  when  she  lay  sick  last  Haliday,  he  niver  left  her 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


137 


room  night  or  day,  nor  niver  as  much  as  tasted  mate 
kind  for  a whole  week,  till  Roger  had  to  lift  him  on  a 
chair  by  her  bedside  and  let  her  feed  him  with  her  own 
hands.  Roger  swears  he  saw  the  tears  fallin  down  the 
dog^s  cheeks,  when  he  looked  up  in  her  face,  and  tuk  the 
food  from  her  fingers.’^ 

^^She^s  too  good  and  too  pure  for  me,  Else,^^  said 
Randall,  thoughtfully  ; ''  and  I fear  such  a creature  could 
never  be  happy  with  the  heretic  and  revolutionist  I am.^^ 

Youll  not  be  either  long,  if  she  marries  ye,^^  said 
Else  ; take  my  word  for  it/’ 

And  why  not  ? ” 

0,  the  Lord  luck  t’ye.  Master  Randall ; she’d  make 
a Catholic  iv  ye  in  three  weeks  ’ithout  one  word’s 
spakin.’.’ 

Indeed  ! by  what  means,  pray  ? ” 

Why,  she’d  make  her  religion  look  so  good  and  holy 
in  yer  eyes,  jist  by  her  ivery  day  ways,  that  ye  cudn’t 
help  lovin  it  yerself.  And  as  for  the  rest,  she  loves  her 
ould  country  as  well  as  you,  Randall  Barry,  woman  an 
all  as  she  is,  an  wud  suffer  as  willingly  too,  may  be,  if  all 
came  to  all.  But  hush ! didn’t  I hear  some  noise 
outside  ? ” 

No  — it’s  only  the  storm  whistling  in  the  thatch.’’ 

Well,  it’s  time,  any  way,  ye’d  have  somethin  to  ate 
afther  yer  long  race  ; ” and  rising  from  the  ^ creepie,’  she 
produced  a cold  fowl  from  the  recesses  of  a little  cup- 
board concealed  in  the  thickness  of  the  cabin  wall,  and 
laid  it  on  the  table.  Then  stooping,  she  raised  up  the 
hearth-stone,  and  disappeared  in  the  dark  opening  be- 
neath with  surprising  agility  for  a woman  of  her  years. 
The  action,  strange  as  it  was,  did  not  appear  to  excite 
the  young  man’s  curiosity  in  the  least ; he  glanced  merely 
at  Else  as  she  descended,  and  then  leaning  his  head  on 
his  hand,  composed  himself  to  wait  patiently  for  her 
return. 

As  he  sat  there  by  the  table  in  the  dim  light  of  the 
rush  candle,  there  was  nothing  about  his  person  worthy 
of  special  notice.  His  figure  was  light  and  graceful,  his 
12* 


138 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


limbs  well  moulded  and  muscular,  and  his  height,  if  we 
could  judge  fairly  in  the  posture  he  had  taken,  a little 
above  the  middle  size.  His  long  black  hair  fell  in  dis- 
order over  the  low  collar  of  his  blue  jacket,  from  the 
breast  pockets  of  which  the  buts  of  a pair  of  travelling 
pistols  still  peeped  out.  His  cravat,  as  we  have  said 
already,  was  knotted  loosely  in  front,  sailor  fashion,  and 
revealed  a neck  by  far  too  fair  for  a seafaring  man,  and 
one  it  would  have  puzzled  a detective  officer  to  reconcile 
with  his  general  appearance.  But  if  there  was  nothing 
striking  in  his  person,  there  was  that  in  his  handsome 
face  which  gave  character  and  interest  to  the  whole  man 
— a shade  of  quiet  melancholy,  which  at  once  impressed 
the  beholder  with  the  conviction  that  the  young  outlaw 
was  no  lover  of  war  or  bloodshed  for  the  gratification 
they  afibrded  him,  but  reluctantly  adopted  as  a last  and 
desperate  resource  for  retrieving  the  fallen  fortunes  of 
his  country.  His  countenance  was  calm  and  composed, 
without  a trace  of  the  socialist  or  the  red  republican  to 
vulgarize  its  fine  expression. 

Ay,  said  he  at  length,  his  voice  barely  audible 
as  he  murmured  out  the  words  ; ''  let  my  father  disinherit 
me  if  he  will,  and  the  spies  of  the  government  dog  me 
step  by  step,  till  they  drive  me  at  last  to  bay ; still  I 
shall  neither  sue  for  pardon,  nor  fiy  from  the  land  of  my 
birth  and  my  aflection  to  beg  a home  on  a foreign  shore. 
To  abandon  Mary  Lee  would  now  be  impossible,  were  she 
as  indifferent  to  me  as  the  meanest  peasant  girl  in  the 
kingdom ; but  were  she  even  dead  to-morrow,  and  all 
my  hopes  buried  with  her  in  the  grave,  I should  wait 
and  watch,  and  bide  my  time  to  renew  the  contest ; I 
should  still  cling  to  the  hope  that  God,  in  his  own  good 
time,  would  inspire  the  young  men  of  the  land  to  rise 
once  more  — not  as  wranglers  and  brawlers  — not  as 
mercenary  anarchists  and  sordid  demagogues,  but  like 
Spartan  brothers,  to  do,  and  dare,  and  die  for  their  coun- 
try's weal.  To  see  that  blessed  day,  I could  eke  out  life 
in  the  lowest  caverns  of  my  native  hills.  To  behold  the 
sunburst,  as  of  old,  waving  once  more  before  an  army  of 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND 


139 


gallant  young  Irishmen — true  to  the  sacred  cause  and 
to  each  other  — true  to  right,  to  justice,  and  to  honor  I 
0,  to  see  such  an  army  in  battle  array  on  the  sunny 
slopes  of  old  Clontarf,  marching  down,  with  fife  and  drum, 
and  colors  flying,  to  drive  the  Saxon  dogs  from  their  long- 
lost  homes  and  pleasant  firesides,  and  to  be  allowed  to 
strike  one  good  blow  myself  for  the  sake  of  old  times  and 
old  memories  — 0,  Mary  Lee,  Mary  Lee,  much  as  I love 
you,  I could  abandon  you  for  this  I But  alas,  alas  ! years 
must  elapse  ere  it  can  happen ; meanwhile  I wander 
among  the  hills  a rebel  and  an  outlaw,  hunted  and  pro- 
scribed like  the  vilest  malefactor.  Be  it  so  ; I have  risked 
my  all  on  a single  cast,  and  lost  it.  Well,  I shall  try  to 
abide  the  consequence  as  best  I may.  Let  them  hunt 
me,  and  catch  me,  if  they  can.  Fll  disappoint  them  so 
long  as  Pm  able  to  fly  or  defend  myself.  When  I can  no 
longer  do  either,  I needs  must  submit. 

There,  said  Else,  emerging  from  the  dark  opening, 
and  laying  a bottle  on  the  table,  from  wJiich  she  had 
already  drawn  the  cork,  ^'there^s  a bottle  of  ould  Port 
that  lay  down  there  below  these  twenty  years  and  more  ; 
take  a drink  of  it  with  that  cowld  widgeon  Koger  left  me 
yesterday ; itdl  do  ye  good  afther  yer  day^s  fatague.^^ 

Randall  had  just  emptied  the  first  glass,  laid  it  on  the 
table  again,  and  was  about  to  address  himself  to  the  cold 
widgeon,  when  Else  pressed  his  arm,  and  looked  signifi- 
cantly towards  the  door. 

What^s  the  matter 

Whist  ! thaPs  Nannie^s  blate  — there’s  somebody 
comin.’’ 

''  0,  no,  it’s  the  poor  beast  asking  shelter  from  the 
storm.” 

Hush  ! I know  Nannie  better  — there  it’s  again.” 

Randall  rose  quickly,  threw  on  his  sea  cap,  and  but- 
toned his  jacket. 

If  they  want  me,”  he  said,  they  must  follow  me  to 
Aranmore.  Good  night,  Else.” 

To  Aranmore  ? ” 

Yes  — no  possibility  now  of  reaching  Dublin  by  any 


140 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


other  route.  I hope  to  find  a fishing  smack  there  from 
the  Skerries,  to  take  me  ofF,^^ 

'^Tak-e  another  glass,  Master  Randall. 

No  more  — good  night.  Else  ; and  jumping  into  the 
mysterious  opening,  he  disappeared,  leaving  Else  to  re- 
place the  covering,  remove  the  viands,  and  receive  the 
new  comers,  whose  footfalls  she  could  now  hear  distinctly 
at  the  door. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


141 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Weeks  thinks  himself  very  ill  treated,  and  the  Irish  the 
most  savage,  beggarly  '‘Varmint  in  all  Creation — 
He  is  conducted  to  a Wedding,  and  having  taken  a glass 
or  two,  under  Protest,  dances  an  hdsh  Jig,  to  the  great 
Delight  of  the  Company. 

It  was  now  within  a short  hour  of  midnight,  and 
Weeks,  drenched  and  weary,  still  plodded  his  lonely  way 
over  the  hills  of  Benraven.  The  night  was  very  stormy, 
and  Mr.  Weeks  very  much  out  of  sorts.  In  truth,  he  was 
troubled  exceedingly,  both  in  mind  and  body  — especially 
in  the  latter,  for  he  had  unfortunately  lost  his  cap  in  his 
rencontre  with  Nannie,  and  was  obliged  to  use  his  pocket 
handkerchief  instead.  It  was  a poor  substitute,  to  be 
sure  ; but  what  else  could  he  do  ? He  had  already  drawn 
his  coat  tails  over  his  head,  but  found  it  impossible  to 
keep  them  down  on  account  of  the  violence  of  the  wind. 
Still,  the  wind  and  the  rain  together,  though  bad  enough, 
were  not  the  worst  he  had  to  contend  with ; the  darkness 
was  the  great  difficulty,  for  he  could  hardly  see  his 
finger  before  him,^^  nor  tell  whether  he  was  going  to  Cro- 
han,  or  back  again  by  some  circuitous  route  to  Araheera 
Head.  Twice,  indeed,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet 
with  benighted  travellers  like  himself,  who  seemed  to 
know  all  about  the  roads,  and  took,  as  he  fancied,  very 
great  pains  to  set  him  right.  They  kindly  informed  him 
he  had  lost  his  way,  and  gave  him  strict  caution  to  take 
the  left  hand  road,  which,  curious  enough,  was  the  very 
thing  he  intended  not  to  do.  But  he  was  a stranger  in 
the  country,  and  of  course  should  take  the  directions  of 
those  better  acquainted  with  it  than  himself.  Yet  it  was 
now  nearly  two  hours  since  he  met  the  latter  of  the  two 
parties,  and  still,  strange  to  say,  he  was  as  far  from  Cro- 
han,  for  aught  he  knew,  as  ever.  On  he  went,  notwith- 
standing— on  he  drove  through  the  pitchy  darkness. 


142 


MABY  LEE,  OB 


butting  his  bare  head  against  the  pitiless  storm,  and 
seeing  nothing  but  the  lightning  flash  as  it  shot  across 
his  face.  Many  a lusty  malediction  did  he  vent,  that 
night,  on  Ireland,  and  the  unlucky  day  he  first  took  it 
into  his  head  to  speculate  in  matrimony  on  her  barbarous 
shore.  At  last,  he  topped  the  summit  of  a hill,  which 
must  surely,  he  thought,  be  Benraven  Scalp,  and  had 
begun  to  descend  the  opposite  side,  when,  much  to  his 
relief,  he  heard  a voice  shouting  through  the  storm,  — 

Hoagh  ! 

Hilloa  I who^s  that  ? he  cried,  turning  round  ; 
who  goes  there  ? 

Hoagh  ! was  again  repeated. 

Come  nearer,^^  bawled  Weeks,  ^'come  nearer;  can^t 
hear  you  with  this  infernal  whistling. And  no  wonder, 
for  in  turning,  the  wind  blew  the  skirts  of  his  sporting 
frock  about  his  ears,  which  kept  flapping  so  rapidly  that 
he  could  hear  nothing  at  all.  Come  nearer,^^  he  re- 
peated, come  nearer ; I^m  here  on  the  middle  of  the 
road.^^ 

Hoagh  I hoagh  I 

Tarnation  to  your  ^ Hoagh  ! ^ Hain^t  ye  got  English 
enough  to  tell  what^s  the  matter  ? ’’ 

Hoagh  ! 

0,  darn  your  gibberish  — you^re  the  most  confounded 
barb — 

Hoagh  I hoagh  ; 

That^s  it ; go  it  again.  By  thunder,  he  bellows  like 
an  ox.^^ 

Mhoagh  I 

Well,  there  ! By  crackie,  if  you^re  sick,  it^s  not  with 
the  lung  complaint,  I reckon,  any  how.  But  hold  on  — 
you  may  have  got  into  some  fix  — hold  on.  Ifll  find  you 
out,  I guess. 

Weeks,  actuated  by  compassion  for  the  sufferer,  as  well 
as  by  the  hope  of  gaining  some  information  respecting  his 
whereabouts,  began  to  grope  his  way  towards  his  com- 
panion in  distress.  He  felt  quite  sure  the  unfortunate 
man  could  not  be  far  away,  for  it  was  impossible  for 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


143 


human  lungs  to  make  the  voice  tell  at  more  than  a few 
yards,  in  the  teeth  of  such  a furious  gale.  With  this 
notion  in  his  head,  he  commenced  his  search  along  the 
road  side,  floundering,  as  he  went  along,  through  the 
water  tables,  and  tripping  occasionally  over  tlie  slippery 
rocks  which  had  fallen  from  the  banks  into  the  ditches. 
As  it  was  impossible  to  see  any  thing  in  the  darkness,  his 
only  alternative  was  to  keep  sweeping  both  hands  out 
before  him  in  semicircles,  like  a swimmer,  with  the  expec- 
tation of  at  length  touching  something  with  life  in  it. 
In  this  manner,  he  searched  up  and  down,  both  sides  of 
the  road,  for  a considerable  time,  calling  lotidly  to  the 
man  in  distress,  but  receiving  no  reply,  and  was  at  last 
on  the  point  of  abandoning  the  poor  wretch  to  his  fate, 
when  he  fancied  he  heard  a heavy  groan,  as  of  some  one 
in  his  last  agony,  and  stretching  out  both  hands  again,  to 
feel  in  the  direction  of  the  sound,  stumbled  once  more 
and  fell  forward. 

Just  as  he  had  expected.  Weeks  felt  something  warm 
and  hairy  under  his  open  palms. 

“Well,  there ! he  exclaimed;  “the  fellow^s  got 
corned  and  fell  in  the  drain.  I swow  he  has,  and  lost  his 
hat  too,  for  his  hair’s  as  wet  as  the  very  grass.  Say  ! 
what’s  the  matter  ?”  he  continued,  shaking  him.  “ Say  I 
wake  up,  if  you  don’t  want  to  die  here  right  off.” 

No  answer  came. 

“ Look  here  ! ” and  he  pulled  him  by  the  hair  of  the 
head,  to  make  him  speak.  “ Look  here  I you’ve  got 
drunk  — hain’t  you  ? ” 

At  this  moment,  and  just  as  ho  had  inserted  his  right 
arm  under  the  helpless  creature’s  head,  to  raise  him  up, 
a flash  of  lightning  illumed  for  an  instant  the  person  of 
the  prostrate  sufferer,  and  revealed  to  the  astonished 
eyes  of  Mr.  Weeks  the  face  and  form  of  a young  steer, 
quietly  chewing  his  cud  under  the  shelter  of  a projecting 
rock. 

“ Heavens  and  earth,  what’s  this  ! ” he  exclaimed, 
snatching  his  arm  from  under  the  animal’s  neck,  and 
jumping  on  the  bank  at  a single  bound.  “ Well,  there  ! 


144 


MAHY  LEE,  OR 


if  that  ain^t  the  darndest  sniggle — I swonnie,  if  I didn^t 
take  the  critter  for  a drunken  Irishman,  shouting  for 
help  all  the  time.  0,  Ireland,  Ireland  ; if  there’s  such 
another  country  in  all  universal  space  — well  — if  there 
be,  I’d  like  to  see  it  — that’s  all.” 

Not  so  fast,  my  fine  fellow,  not  so  fast,”  shouted 
somebody  in  his  ear ; you’ve  driven  that  baste  far 
enough.  I’ll  take  charge  of  him  now,  if  ye  plaze,  and 
yerself  too,  into  the  bargain.” 

Me  ? ” 

Ay,  in  troth,  honey,  just  your  very  self.  You’re  the 
queen’s  prisoner.” 

The  queen’s  humbug — for  what,  I should  like  to 
know  ? ” 

**  Stealing  that  yearling.”  ■ 

Stealing  ! You  don’t  say  1 ha,  ha  I ” 

I do  say.” 

You’re  mistaken,  ain’t  you  ? 

Not  in  the  laste,  my  good  man.” 

Well,  I kinder  think  you  be.” 

^'Kinder  think.  Exactly  — that’s  one  of  the  tokens  ; 
you’re  a Yankee,  it  seems.” 

Well,  I always  reckoned  so  — happened  to  be  born 
in  New  England,  any  how.” 

''Just  so  — in  Ducksvdlle.” 

" In  Ducksville  ! — why,  how  the  thunder  came  you 
to  know  that  — eh  ? ” 

"Niver  mind  — I know  more  than  all  that,  my  fine 
fellow.  I know  you’ve  stolen  three  more  of  this  same 
stock  from  Benraven  Mountain,  within  the  last  fortnight, 
and  this  one  makes  the  fourth.” 

" My  dear  man,”  said  Weeks,  " let  me  tell  you 
again,  this  is  a great  mistake  — I’m  a private  gen- 
tleman.” 

" Peth,  may  be  so.  Hilloa  ! come  on  here,  Tom  Hen- 
ley — come  on  with  the  lantern  ; ” and  as  the  latter 
came  up,  the  speaker  raised  the  light  to  the  face  of  his 
prisoner,  and  deliberate!}^  scanned  his  person  from  head 
to  foot.  " Let  me  see  — 8ix  feet  in  height^  slender  figure ^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  lEELAND. 


145 


knock-kneed,  long  sandy  hair,  gray  frock  and  trousers, 
several  gilt  chains,  rings,  brooches,  &c.  Very  good  — 
3^ou^re  just  the  person  Pve  been  searching  for  these 
three  nights  past.  Come,  my  lad,  you  must  trot  to  Mr. 
Johnston^s.^^ 

'' Well,  rather  not,^^  coolly  replied  Weeks.  I 
sorter  think  Fll  sleep  to-night  at  my  cousin^s,  Mr.  Rob- 
ert Hardwrinkle^s.’^ 

Not  till  you  see  Mr.  Johnston,  first.  Pm  his  bailiff, 
and  must  do  my  duty.  Come,  sir,  no  more  palaverin 
about  it.^^ 

Look  here  ! exclaimed  Weeks,  as  the  bailiff  laid 
his  hand  roughly  on  his  shoulder  ; ‘‘  look  here  — hold  on 
a minute  — don^t  you  think  youh'e  carrying  this  joke  a 
leetle  too  far  ? I told  you  already  I was  Mr.  Hardwrin- 
kle’s  cousin-german.^^ 

What,  of  Crohan  ? 

Ye-e-s.^^ 

Just  so  — precisely  — thaPs  another  token.  YouVe 
been  trying  hard  to  pass  for  the  foreigner  visiting  there. 

Trying  to  pass  ! My  dear  man,  I^m  that  very  indi- 
vidual himself,  and  was  on  my  way  to  Crohan,  from  Ara- 
heera  lighthouse,  when  I heard  that  animal  — 

Ha,  ha!  a likely  story,  indeed  — on  your  way  to 
Crohan  — here,  on  the  very  top  of  Cairncrit  — three 
miles  farther  from  Crohan  than  when  you  left  the  light- 
house, and  the  very  animal  weYe  lookin  for,  too,  in  your 
custody.^’ 

Well,  I reckon  I must  have  been  directed  the  wrong 
way.^^ 

"'And  how  did  you  happen  to  get  in  company  with 
the  stirk  ? 

" Why,  I heard  the  critter  bellow,  and  seemed  to 
think  it  might  be  an  Irishman  shouting  for  help.^^ 

" Ila,  ha  1 upon  my  conscience,  now,  thaPs  mighty 
flatterin  ; heard  a stirk  routin  under  the  rain,  and  took  it 
for  an  Irishman  in  distress. 

" IsnY  he  mighty  cute,  intirely  ? said  Henley. 

13 


146 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


''  Wonderful  — but  tell  me,  Tom,  didn^t  Lanty  say  the 
fellow  generally  carried  a fishin  rod  with  him  ? 

Ay,  did  he  ; but  who  the  deuce  cud  carry  a fishin 
rod  with  him  such  a night  as  this,  when  the  strongest  of 
us  can  scarcely  carry  ourselves  against  the  storm  ? 0, 

as  for  that,  you  needn^t  be  the  laste  afeerd  in  life  ; he^s 
the  very  man  yer  lookin  for,  as  sure  as  your  name^s  Ned 
Griffin/^ 

Say,  what  Lanty  d^ye  mean  ? inquired  Weeks  ; 

Lanty  Hanlon  — eh  ? 

Niver  mind,  it  makes  no  difference  to  you  who 
he  is.’^ 

Well,  not  much,  I guess,  but  if  I could  see  him  just 
as  well  as  not,  I might  save  you  further  trouble  on  my 
account.  Let  me  see  — he  lives  in  this  here  neighbor- 
hood, somewhere  — donH  he  ? 

Come,  come,  my  good  fellow,  this  hoodwinking 
won^t  take  just  at  present.  You  may  be  very  smart,  and 
cunning,  and  all  that,  but  I have  had  some  twenty  years^ 
experience  of  gentlemen  of  your  profession.  So,  come 
on  ; we^ll  take  you  down  here  to  one  of  these  houses  in 
Ballymagahey  for  the  night,  and  carry  you  before  Mr. 
Johnston  to-morrow.  You  can  then  call  on  Lanty  Han- 
lon to  give  you  a character,  and  as  many  more  as  you 
plaze.  Lift  your  feet  and  theydl  fall  themselves, he 
added,  grasping  the  unfortunate  Weeks  by  the  collar. 

Come  away  out  of  this  rain  ; come,  trot,  my  customer, 
trot  — youVe  legs  enough  if  you  only  use  them.^^ 

Trot  h — 11  ! ” vociferated  Weeks  at  last,  losing  pa- 
tience ; if  you  don^t  let  go  my  collar  this  instant,  Pll 
blow  your  brains  out.  Away,  you  ignorant,  beggarly 
savages  — darn  you,  to  take  me  for  a cow  thief.  Away 
— make  tracks  this  minute,  or  by — 

Be  aisy,  my  valiant  fellow,  be  aisy,^^  said  the  bailiff, 
still  gripping  him  by  the  collar. 

No,  I shan^t  — let  me  go  — ITl  not  put  up  with  this, 
no  how.^^ 

DonH  fret  — weTl  put  you  up,  and  in  lavender,  too  ; 
never  fear.^^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


147 


I tell  you  once  more,  Fm  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks, 
cousin-german  to  the  Hard  wrinkles  of  Crohan/^ 

0,  thin,  bad  scran  to  the  much  ye  need  boast  of  the 
connection, replied  Henley,  helping  the  bailiff  to  drag 
him  down  the  hill. 

Unhand  me,  villains,  unhand  me  ; Fm  a stranger 
here  — Fra  a foreigner. 

And  sure  we^re  only  helpin  to  send  you  to  foreign 
parts  again.  0,  faith,  honey,  well  accommodate  ye  that 
way,  and  welcome. 

''Look  here  — hold  on,^^  vociferated  Weeks,  as  they 
ran  him  down  the  hill ; "I  want  you  to  understand  who 
I am  — I’m  a citizen  — a free-born  citizen  of  the  United 
States,  under  the  protection  of  the  stars  and  stripes,  and 
I protest  against  this  violence  — I command  you  in  the 
name  of  my  country  to  let  me  go.” 

" Bedad,  that’s  very  alarmin,  Ned  — isn’t  it?  ” 

"Ha,  ha!  mighty  alarmin,  intirely,”  responded  the 
bailiff.  " He  speaks  like  that  Yankee  fellow,  in  Dublin, 
last  week,  who  threatened  the  magistrate  with  the  stars 
and  stripes,  because  he  fined  him  five  shillings  for  spit- 
ting tobacco  juice  on  a lady’s  dress.” 

In  this  way  the  bailiff,  assisted  by  Tom  Henley,  con- 
tinued to  drag  the  unhappy  Weeks  down  the  south  side 
of  Benraven  Mountain,  despite  his  solemn  protest  against 
the  outrage,  and  his  frequent  assurances  of  his  innocence, 
and  finally  succeeded  in  conveying  him  to  a house  in  the 
little  village  of  Ballymagahey,  where,  late  as  the  hour 
was,  a light  was  still  burning. 

As  the  party  approached  the  house,  several  voices 
were  heard  within,  some  speaking  loud,  some  laughing, 
others  singing,  and  now  and  then  the  squeak  of  a fiddle 
breaking  out  at  intervals. 

Without  pausing  an  instant,  the  bailiff  knocked  loudly 
on  the  door,  and  the  next  moment  pushed  in  before  him 
Ephraim  Weeks,  haggard  and  torn,  and  dripping  like  a 
water  god. 

The  fiddle  stopped  short  in  the  middle  of  Miss  Me- 


148 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


Cloud^s  reel,  and  the  affrighted  dancers  fell  back,  and 
left  the  floor  clear  to  the  new  comers. 

Oj  hierna!  cried  some  one  in  a stage  whisper; 
he^s  mad  — see  how  his  eyes  rowl  in  his  head  — hedl 
tear  ns  in  pieces./^ 

The  young  females,  hearing  this,  took  alarm,  and  ran 
out  of  doors,  screaming  for  protection  ; the  elder  ones 
ran  after  to  bring  them  back ; the  men  shouted  to  the 
runaways  to  stop  in  twenty  different  voices,  till  in  a 
shorter  time  than  we  have  taken  to  describe  it,  the  place 
was  a scene  of  unutterable  confusion.  Nearly  all  the 
females  had  disappeared  one  after  another.  The  hunch- 
back fiddler  jumped  through  the  window  with  his  instru- 
ment under  his  arm  ; and  to  make  the  din  still  more  intol- 
erable, the  house  dog  set  up  such  a howling  outside  as 
if  the  world  had  actually  come  to  an  end,  when  the 
bailiff,  seeing  how  matters  stood,  stepped  on  a chair  and 
began  to  address  the  company,  assuring  them  the  man 
was  not  mad  by  any  means,  but  a notorious  cow  thief  he 
had  arrested  in  the  act  of  stealing  Mr.  Johnston ^s  cattle 
from  the  mountain,  and  then  proceeded  to  give  the  details 
of  the  capture. 

Whilst  the  bailiff  thus  endeavored  to  quiet  the  appre- 
hensions of  the  females.  Weeks  stood  stock  still  in  the 
centre  of  a curious  and  wondering  group  — his  hands 
thrust  down  as  low  as  he  could  drive  them  into  his 
breeches  pockets,  and  his  eyes  wandering  round  and 
round  in  search  of  some  one  to  recognize  him  — but  alas  ! 
the  faces  he  saw  there  were  all  strange  faces  to  him. 

It  was  some  time  before  the  bailiff  ^s  repeated  guaran- 
tee of  his  prisoner's  sanity  of  mind  and  peaceable  dispo- 
sition could  induce  the  females  to  return  to  the  dancing 
room  ; and  when  they  did,  each  fair  one,  as  she  entered, 
was  seen  to  cast  a fearful  glance  at  the  tall  stranger,  and 
press  closely  by  the  side  of  her  partner.  Last  came  the 
little  fiddler,  looking  twice  as  big  as  when  he  fled  through 
the  window  but  a moment  before,  and  swearing  all  kinds 
of  anathemas  against  the  bailiff  and  his  prisoner  for 
exposing  his  instrument  to  the  rain. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


149 


Still,  amid  all  the  noise  and  bustle,  Weeks  stood  there 
as  calm  and  solemn  as  an  undertaker.  He  was  no  longer 
excited  — that  state  of  feeling  had  given  way  to  a calm, 
contemptuous,  silent  indignation.  He  felt  precisely  as 
an  unfortunate  Irish  Catholic  feels  in  New  England, 
when  arrested  for  robbery,  and  happens  to  reflect  he  is 
the  only  stranger  in  the  township,  and  without  a friend 
to  say  a word  in  his  favor.  But  we  must  not  stop  to 
moralize  ; we  can  only  say,  — to  borrow  a line  from  the 
poet,  — 

“We  have  seen  such  sights,  but  must  not  call  to  mind.” 

Suddenly,  however,  Mr.  Weekses  attention  seemed  to 
be  attracted  by  the  entrance  of  an  active,  curly-headed, 
humorous-looking  fellow,  wearing  a rabbit-skin  cap  jantily 
set  on  the  side  of  his  head,  and  supporting  a laughing, 
dark-haired  girl  on  his  arm. 

''  Say,  hold  on  there,  you,^^  cried  Weeks,  at  length 
breaking  silence,  and  motioning  to  the  new  comer. 

The  individual  made  no  reply,  but  hastened  to  escape 
further  observation  by  esconcing  himself  behind  a door 
in  a remote  corner  of  the  room. 

''  Look  here ! persisted  Weeks,  breaking  through 
the  group,  and  holding  out  his  hand  in  token  of  recogni- 
tion ; ''look  here!  — how  do,  old  feller?  got  into  a 
sorter  snarl  here,  and  glad  you  turned  up  to  see  me  out.’' 

" Me  I ” 

"Why,  yes  — you’re  Lanty  Hanlon  — ain’t  you  ? ” 

" Ay,  that’s  my  name.” 

All  right;  I knew  you  by  your  cap  as  soon  as  you 
entered.  Well  — I want  you  to  clear  up  a mistake. 
This  here  bailiff,  or  constable,  or  whatever  darned  thing 
you  call  him,  has  arrested  me  for  stealing  a steer,  up 
thereaway  — ha,  ha  I — and  won’t  believe  I’m  Mr. 
Ephraim  Weeks,  no  how  you  can  fix  it.” 

" Mr.  Ephraim  Weeks  ! ” muttered  our  friend  Lanty, 
slowly  repeating  the  words,  and  looking  up  in  affected 
wonder  in  the  man’s  face  ; " Mr.  Ephraim  Weeks  — 
you’re  a stranger  in  these  parts.” 

13* 


150 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Why,  what  d^ye  mean  ? 

No  offence  in  the  world,  only  youVe  the  Vantage  of 
me/^ 

Advantage  ! HowV  that  ? 

Why,  I don^t  remimber  iver  to  see  you  afore/^ 

You  donH,  eh  ? Look  at  me  again/^ 
do/^ 

Why,  darn  ye,  hainY  ye  seen  me  every  day  this 
month  past  ? 

Me  ! bedad,  may  be  so.  Whereabouts,  if  itV  a fair 
question  ? 

Now,  you  go  to  grass, cried  Weeks;  '^you  know 
me  as  well  as  I know  myself. 

Faith,  and  that  same  mightn^t  be  much  to  brag  of 
aither.^^ 

''  Why,  tarnation*  tVe,  hain^t  you  sold  me  two  dozen 
flies,  last  Thursday,  at  Kindrum  Pond  ? 

I sell  you  flies  ? Ha,  ha,  ha  I Why,  upon  my  con- 
science, my  good  fellow,  you  must  be  ravin. 

Well,  there  ! exclaimed  Weeks,  looking  at  the 
imperturbable  Lanty  as  if  he  could  run  him  through  ; 
then  drawing  a fly-book  hastily  from  his  pocket,  he 
pulled  it  open,  and  holding  the  flies  before  Lanty^s  face, 
demanded  to  know  if  they  were  of  his  dressing  or  not. 

Mine  — begorra,  it  wudnY  be  aisy  to  tell  that  in  the 
state  they  Ye  in  now,  any  way.^^ 

Ladies  and  gents, said  Weeks,  appealing  to  the  by- 
standers, I vow  I bought  these  flies  from  this  here 
fellow  last  Thursday.  And,  whatY  more,  he  stuck  me  in 
them  too,  to  the  tune  of  twenty-five  cents  apiece. 

''  Why,  donY  they  ketch  ? inquired  some  one  in  the 
crowd. 

Ketch  — no,  guess  they  donY  ketch  — theyYe  the 
darndest  things  ever  fell  in  water.  W"hy,  I never  could 
turn  a tail  with  them,  if  I fished  till  doomsday. 

I admit, said  Lanty,  I sold  flies  to  a gentleman  of 
the  name  of  Weeks  ; the  gentleman  thatY  on  a visit  to 
Hardwrinkles,  of  Crohan.^^ 

And  thunderation  to  ye  ! ainY  I that  same  Weeks  ? 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


151 


You  ! ha,  ha,  ha  ! Begorra,  that^s  capital  — you 
Mr.  Weeks.^^ 

''  What ! will  you  dare  deny  me  to  my  face,  you  scoun- 
drel ? 

Deny  you  ? 0,  holy  patience,  did  man  or  mortal 

iver  hear  the  like  ? 

''  Shut  up,  you  lying  rascal, shouted  Weeks,  gesticu- 
lating at  his  innocent-looking  tormentor  ; shut  up,  you 
unprincipled  scamp  ; you  know  in  your  soul  who  I am 

— if  you  have  a soul  — but  you  hain^t,  — dang  the  one 
you  have  ! 

0,  my  poor  man,^^  responded  Lanty,  looking  at  his 
victim  with  all  the  gravity  of  a judge  about  to  pronounce 
sentence,  and  shaking  his  head  sorrowfully  as  he  spoke, 

— "^my  poor  man,  how  hardened  a sinner  you  must  be, 
to  pass  yourself  off  for  the  good,  innocent,  modest 
gentleman  that^s  now  lyin  sound  asleep  in  his  vartuous 
bed  ! 

Well,  if  there  be  a devil  on  earth,^^  exclaimed  Weeks, 

youh’e  that  individual,  or  his  nearest  relation,  that^s 
sartin.  You  stepped  out  from  the  lower  regions  to-night 
to  get  a cooling,  and  met  me  some  two  hours  ago  on  the 
mountain.  You’re  the  person  planned  and  played  this 
here  trick  — no  mistake  about  it.” 

Isn’t  he  bowld  spoken  to  be  a thief?  ” said  one  of 
the  bystanders,  nudging  his  neighbor’s  elbow. 

Ay,  and  purshuin  to  him,  see  how  innocent  he  tries  to 
look,”  replied  the  other. 

0,  the  dear  be  about  ye,  man  ; one  i’  them  fellows 
that’s  used  to  it ’d  chate  St.  Pether.” 

Whist!  whist!  boys,”  remonstrated  Lanty,  waving 
his  hand  for  silence.  Let  him  alone,  let  him  alone  ; we 
shud  niver  rejoice,  ye  know,  in  another’s  misfortune. 
May  be,  if  you  were  like  him  yerselves,  ye  wuldn’t  care 
to  be  laughed  at.” 

''  Come,  come,  my  good  fellow,”  interposed  the  bailiff, 
''  you’re  only  making  matters  worse.  Go  somewhere  and 
get  rid  of  them  wet  clothes.” 

Ay,  do,  Mr.  Stranger  ; take  a friend’s  advice,”  said 


152 


MAKY  LEE,  OE 


Lanty,  and  don^t  expose  your  precious  health.  The 
truth  will  all  come  out  th^  morrow.  If  yer  innicint,  so 
much  the  betther  ; an  if  yer  not,  wh}^,  yell  only  be  thrans- 
ported  two  or  three  months  afore  yer  time  ; so  take 
courage,  and  don^t  be  unaisy,^^ 

Lanty ^s  cool  impudence  at  last  so  provoked  the  Yankee 
that  he  could  hardly  restrain  himself.  Once  or  twice, 
indeed,  he  hitched  up  his  shoulders  and  showed  symptoms 
of  battle  ; but  his  resentment  as  often  cooled  down  again 
without  further  mischief.  Like  poor  Bob  Acres,  Mr. 
Weeks  could  never  get  his  courage  up  to  the  fighting 
point ; some  how  or  other,  it  always  escaped  through  his 
fingers^  ends,  like  that  of  his  illustrious  prototype. 

^^Well,  ladies  and  gents, said  he  at  length,  falling 
back,  as  a last  resource,  on  his  soft  sawder,  ''  well,  I 
must  confess  I feel  a kinder  disappointed.  Now  I do  ; 
that^s  a fact.  Why,  it’s  just  like  this  — I always  heard 
the  Irish  cracked  up  all  over  creation  for  their  hospitality 
to  strangers.  At  hum,  in  New  England,  they’re  tip  top 
in  that  line.  Well,  they’re  about  as  hospitable  folks,  I 
guess,  as  you  can  scare  up  any  where  between  Maine  and 
Georgia.  We  get  along  with  them  slick,  I tell  you. 
And  as  for  extending  them  the  right  hand  of  fellowship, 
why,  golly,  we  love  them  like  brothers  — ” 

'^Phew!”  cried  Lanty  ; just  listen  to  that.  He’s 
puttin  his  foot  in  it  deeper  and  deeper.  0,  faith,  my  fine 
fellow,  it’s  aisy  seen  ye  niverwas  much  in  New  England, 
or  ye’d  know  a little  betther  how  the  Irish  are  thrated 
there.” 

Weeks  suddenly  drew  in  his  horns  — to  use  a homely 
expression.  He  saw,  in  an  instant,  he  had  touched  a 
delicate  subject,  and  the  sooner  he  dropped  it  the  better. 
Like  many  of  his  countrymen,  he  fancied  the  Irish  he 
saw  about  him  never  could  have  an  idea  in  their  heads 
above  the  pick  or  the  spade  ; a ragged  coat  and  an  Irish 
brogue  being  in  his  mind  synonymous  with  consummate 
ignorance  and  absolute  barbarism.  He  now  felt  he  had 
gone  a little  too  far,  and  that  any  attempt  to  deceive  his 
tormentors  by  such  barefaced  humbug  as  he  was  then 


THE  YANKEE  IN  niELAND. 


153 


attempting,  would  only  make  matters  worse,  since,  to  all 
appearances,  they  knew  as  much  about  the  persecution 
their  countrymen  suffered  in  New  England  as  he  did 
himself.  The  broad  grin  that  overspread  every  face  as 
he  Avent  on  to  speak  of  the  love  which  the  citizens  of 
New  England  cherished  for  their  Celtic  brethren  assured 
him  of  this,  even  before  Lanty  could  say  a word  in  reply. 
Affecting,  therefore,  to  disdain  further  conversation  on  the 
subject,  after  hearing  the  laugh  with  which  Lanty^s  humor- 
ous but  cutting  rebuke  was  received,  he  turned  to  the 
bailiff,  and  demanded  to  be  taken  forthwith  to  some  rest- 
ing place  for  the  night. 

You^ll  get  comfortable  quarters, said  Lanty  ; never 
fear  ; but  av  coorse  youTl  take  dhoch  in  dhorris  * with  us, 
afore  ye  go,  to  the  health  of  the  new-married  couple. 

What’s  that  ? ” 

Why,  something  to  warm  ye,  after  the  cowld  rain.” 

Don’t  drink,”  said  Weeks. 

Nonsense.” 

''No,  sir,  I’m  a Washingtonian.” 

" A what  ? ” 

" A Son  of  Temperance.” 

" Pshaugh  — son  of  botheration.  I’m  ashamed  of  ye. 
nilloa  there  ! Iludy  Branagan,  bring  in  the  bottle.” 

"You  may  bring  in  a hogshead,”  said  Weeks  ; "I 
shan’t  taste  it.” 

" And  you  in  that  condition  ! Why,  the  heavens  be 
about  us  ; d’ye  mane  to  put  a hand  in  yer  own  life  ? ” 

" None  of  your  confounded  business.  I shan’t  drink 
your  darned  liquor  — that’s  all.” 

" Well,  ye’ll  die  if  ye  don’t  — and  that’d  be  a burnin 
disgrace  to  the  counthry,  if  ye  were  even  as  great  a 
thief  as  James  Freny  himself.  Hoot,  man,  what’d  yer 
people  say  of  us  if  we  let  ye  die  here  in  ould  Ireland  for 
want  of  a glass  of  stout  potheen  ? Here,  take  this,  and 
swallow  it,  like  a sensible  man.” 

" Away  with  it,”  cried  Weeks. 


Stirrup-cup. 


154 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


**  Be  aisy,  avourneen,  be  aisy/^ 

''  Take  it  away,  or  by  thunder  I’ll  break  your  bottle 
and  glass  in  pieces  ; ” and  making  a plunge,  he  attempted 
to  force  a passage  through  the  crowd,  but  was  again 
driven  back  into  the  centre  of  the  group. 

''  Let  me  out,”  he  shouted,  now  completely  excited  ; 

let  me  out,  ye  beggarly  Irish  vermin.  I despise  your 
liquor,  and  3^our  country  to  boot.  I spit  upon  you  and 
your  nation,  for  you’re  both  as  mean  as  dirt.” 

''  Ila,  ha  ! there  now,”  cried  Lanty,  laughing,  with 
the  bottle  and  glass  in  his  hands  — ^Hhere  now,  that’s 
more  of  yer  New  England  friendship.  But  niver  mind  ; 
if  ye  were  a Yankee  fifty  times  over,  we  won’t  thrate 
ye  the  worse  for  that.  Come,  take  this  drop  — you’ll  be 
the  betther  of  it.” 

Let  me  out.” 

Whisht,  man  ; sure  it’s  all  for  yer  own  good.  Arrah, 
don’t  refuse  to  drink  to  the  bride  and  groom.  It’s  as 
much  as  yer  life’s  worth  to  refuse  it.  Take  it ; it’ll 
warm  ye  — taste  it,  any  way  — it’s  the  deuce  i’  the 
barley  — it’s  the  rale  ould  Innishowen,”  broke  out  from 
several  voices,  each  rising  higher  than  the  other,  till  poor 
Weeks  knew  not  what  to  say,  nor  what  side  to  turn  to. 
Still  he  obstinately  refused  to  touch  the  beverage. 

Well,  boys,”  said  Lanty,  at  last,  take  hould  of  him, 
and  lay  him  down,  since  nothin  else  will  save  him. 
Whatsomiver  the  craythur  is,  we’re  Christians  sure,  any 
way,  and  can’t  let  him  die  fur  want  of  a thrifle  i’  medi- 
cine. It’s  a liberty  we  take,  my  good  man,  to  be  sure, 
but  still  it’s  betther  do  that,  than  have  yer  death  on  our 
sowls,  the  lor  between  us  an  harm.” 

The  sorrah  take  him,  the  spalpeen,”  said  one  of  the 
bystanders  ; ''isn’t  he  nice  about  it?  feth,  ye’d  think  it 
was  a physic  he  was  goin  to  swallow.” 

" Begorra,  I niver  heerd  the  like  of  it.” 

" It’s  a bad  sign  to  see  him  refuse  the  liquor,  any  way.” 

"Indeed,  then,  Andy,  it’s  the  truth  ye’re  tellin;  so  it 
is ; for  in  troth  it’s  not  much  depindince  iver  I had  in 
the  man  ’d  refuse  a glass  in  dacency.” 


THE  YANICEE  IN  IRELAND. 


165 


''  0,  there^s  a bad  dbrop  in  him  ; ye  may  take  yer  oath 
iv  that  ; but  look  at  Lanty,  Ned,  just  luck  at  his  face  — 
as  sober  as  if  it  was  cut  on  a tombstone.  Did  ye  iver 
see  such  a born  devil  in  all  yer  life  ? 

''Well,  Lanty  had  it  in  for  him,  any  way.  And, 
begorra,  he  desarves  all  hedl  get  and  more,  for  he^s  niver 
aisy,  they  say,  but  when  he’s  running  down  the  Irish.” 

" So  I’m  tould.  He  thinks  no  one  in  the  whole 
country  fit  to  spake  to  him.  As  for  the  Doghertys,  and 
Currans,  and  Johnstons  here,  why,  they’re  not  fit  to  tie 
his  shoes.” 

" Ladies  and  gentlemen,”  exclaimed  Lanty,  stepping 
up  on  a bench,  and  still  holding  the  bottle  and  glass  in 
his  hands,  I’m  goin  to  give  ye  a toast,  and  may  the 
man’s  heart  niver  again  warm  to  good  nature,  that  doesn’t 
drink  it.” 

" Silence,  there,  silence  — till  we  hear  the  toast.” 

" Stop  that  fiddle  there,  and  listen  to  the  spaker.” 

" Here’s  then  to  the  honest  man,”  cried  Lanty,  raising 
his  glass  — " here’s  to  the  honest  man  all  over  the  world, 
and  confusion  to  the  narrow-minded  knave  who’d  make 
religion  or  birthplace  a test  of  friendship  ; ” and  tossing 
off  the  bumper,  he  ordered  the  company  to  pass  the 
bottle. 

Kound  went  the  toast,  and  off  went  the  glass  with 
many  a loud  hip,  hip,  hurrah.  There  was  shaking  of 
hands,  and  touching  of  cans,  accompanied  by  snatches 
of  songs  suitable  to  the  toast,  and  pledges  of  friendship 
to  one  another,  not  forgetting  long  life  and  happiness  to 
the  bride  and  groom  ; all  seemed  joyous  and  happy  as  they 
could  wish  to  be.  Weeks  alone  excepted,  who  still  stood 
in  the  centre  of  the  crowd,  looking  silently  on  the  njDisy 
enjoyments  of  the  company,  and  obstinately  refusing  all 
participation  in  the  hilarity  of  the  occasion. 

" Where,  in  the  name  of  patience,  were  you  born  at 
all,”  demanded  the  bailiff,  " that  you  won’t  drink  at  a 
weddin  ? ” 

"He’s  an  unnatural-looking  thief,  any  way,”  exclaimed 
another. 


156 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Stand  aside,  boys,’^  commanded  Lanty,  waving  his 
hand  from  his  elevated  position,  and  let  us  give  the 
stranger  fair  play.  He’s  all  alone  here  amongst  us,  and 
we  mustn’t  be  hard  on  him.  Jemmy  Bragan,  fill  that 
glass,  and  offer  it  to  him  again.  And  now,  my  good 
man,”  he  continued,  addressing  Weeks,  ''you  heerd  the 
toast,  ' the  honest  man  all  over  the  world,  and  bad  luck 
to  the  knave  who’d  make  religion  or  birthplace  a test  of 
friendship  ’ — will  you  drink  it?  ” 

" No,”  replied  Weeks,  " darn  me  if  I do.” 

" Then,  gintlemen,  lay  him  down  and  administher  the 
midicine.” 

Four  or  five  stout  fellows  now  laid  hold  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Weeks,  and  were  deliberately  proceeding  to  exe- 
cute Lanty’s  orders,  when  a new  actor  suddenly  appeared 
on  the  scene,  and  commanded  them  to  desist.  It  was 
the  handsome,  dark-haired  girl  whom  the  reader  saw  a 
few  minutes  before  entering  the  room,  leaning  on  Lan- 
ty’s arm. 

" Shame  I shame  ! ” she  cried  ; " are  ye  men,  to  treat 
a stranger  in  this  way  ? ” • 

" Don’t  be  onaisy,  Mary,”  replied  Lanty;  "we  don’t 
intend  him  the  laste  harm  in  life.” 

" Well,  you’ve  carried  the  joke  too  far  already,  Lanty 
Hanlon;  let  him  come  with  me  — I’ll  take  care  of  him.” 

" Why,  Mary,  it’s  only  a bit  of  a frolic  he  brought  on 
himself.  He  tould  me  a dozen  times  the  Irish  were  no 
betther  nor  savages,  and  we  jist  want  to  show  him  how 
much  he’s  mistaken.” 

" And  you  do  this  to  a furriner,  not  a month . in  the 
country  ; paugh  ! pretty  hospitality  that ! ” 

"He’s  green,  you  know,  Mary,  and  we  want  to  saison 
him.” 

" Tut,  tut ! shame,  shame  ! ” 

"It’s  for  his  own  good  — saisonin  in  time  will  make  a 
dacent  man  iv  him.” 

" Hould  yer  tongue,  now,  Lanty ; ye’d  provoke  a 
saint ; hould  your  tongue,  and  let  us  out.  I must  go 
and  find  some  dry  clothes  for  him,  or  he’ll  die  in  this 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


157 


condition.  Stand  back,  gintlemen,  if  ye  plaze,  and  give 
us  room  to  pass.^^ 

''  Bedad,  Mary,  Fm  afraid  to  trust  ye  with  him  ; feth, 
may  be  heM  take  a fancy  to  ye,  and  cut  me  out.^^ 

Whist,  now,  and  let  me  go.  That  tongue  of  yours  T1 
hang  ye  up  on  the  gallows  yet,  some  day  ; and  taking 
Weeks  familiarly  by  the  arm,  in  she  led  him  unresistingly 
from  the  crowd,  and  disappeared  through  one  of  the  inner 
doors  of  the  apartment. 

The  dance  was  now  resumed,  and  mirth  and  music 
made  the  time  pass  quickly  and  merrily  for  the  next  hour. 
Lanty  danced  with  every  girl  in  the  room,  and  when  he 
could  no  longer  find  a partner,  danced  a hornpipe  him- 
self on  a door,  amid  the  shouts  and  cheers  of  the  party. 
Every  one  seemed  to  share  in  the  general  joy.  Even  the 
grandparents  of  the  happy  couple,  old  as  they  were,  took 
each  other’s  hands,  and  went  through  some  ancient  sal- 
tations to  the  great  amusement  of  the  younger  specta- 
tors. 

On  went  the  mirth  and  up  rose  the  song,  and  the  little 
hunchbacked  fiddler  had  just  tuned  his  instrument  once 
more,  and  commenced  to  rattle  away  at  a country  dance 
with  renewed  ardor,  when,  all  of  a sudden,  a shout  was 
heard  at  the  door,  followed  instantly  by  bravos,  bravos, 
echoed  and  repeated,  till  at  last,  in  the  midst  of  a wild 
hurrah,  in  drove  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks,  dressed  in  an  old 
blue  swallow-tailed  coat,  and  pantaloons  that  descended 
but  an  inch  or  two  below  the  knees,  dragging  in  the  young 
lady  who  had  so  kindly  rescued  him  from  his  late  tor- 
mentors, and  in  rather  unsteady  accents,  commanded  the 
fiddler  to  ''  fire  up,  and  let  him  have  something  to  dance 
to.”  Everybody  now  crushed  and  crowded  round  to 
welcome  him  back.  Those  who  but  a short  time  before 
were  disposed  to  mortify  him  to  the  very  utmost,  in  re- 
venge for  his  insolent  abuse  of  their  religion  and  their 
country,  were  the  first  to  call  for  three  cheers  for  the 

bould  American  ; ” and  foremost  among  the  first  was 
Lanty  Hanlon,  who  clapped  him  lustily  on  the  back,  and 
14 


158 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


ordered  the  fiddler  to  strike  up  something  with  a sowl 
in  it,  to  shuit  the  taste  of  the  jolly  Yankee/^ 

It  is  needless,  dear  reader,  to  describe  what  followed. 
Weeks  seemed  to  have  abandoned  himself  entirely  to  the 
excitement  of  the  moment.  How  that  excitement  was 
brought  about,  however,  no  one  could  tell.  He  drank, 
and  drank  freely,  — as  was  evident  the  moment  he  made 
his  appearance  at  the  door,  — but  whether  at  the  solici- 
tation of  his  fair  friend,  or  merely  to  preserve  his  health 
after  so  long  an  exposure  to  the  storm,  was  never  dis- 
covered ; certain  it  is  he  was  completely  fascinated  by 
his  lovely  partner,  and  danced  with  her  as  long  as  he 
was  able  to  move  a foot  — swearing  all  the  while  by  his 
crackie  she  was  the  finest  gal  in  all  creation,  and 
went  through  her  figures  like  a real  thorough-bred  Yan- 
kee, ^^no  mistake  about  it.^^ 

Here,  dear  reader,  we  must  stop,  leaving  the  finale  of 
this  scene  to  your  own  charitable  imagination  ; for  a de- 
scription of  our  friend  Weekses  position  on  the  stage,  as 
the  curtain  fell,  is  more  than  we  should  dare  attempt. 
One  thing,  however,  we  ought  to  mention,  just  to  relieve 
your  anxiety ; he  was  conveyed  safely  home  that  same 
night,  and  awoke  in  his  own  comfortable  bed  next  morning 
in  Crohan  house. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IE.ELAND. 


159 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Kate  Petersham  at  Castle  Gregory.  — Dr.  Henshaw^s 
Catholicity  proves  rather  strong  both  for  Kate  and  the 
Priest.  — The  Doctor,  like  Mr.  Weeks,  forms  a very  had 
Opinion  of  Ireland  and  its  Inhabitants.  — Lanty  plays 
an  Irish  Trick.  — Its  Consequences. 

Is  Miss  Petersham  engaged,  please  ? said  a servant, 
opening  the  parlor  door. 

No  : what' s the  matter  ? 

Father  John  sends  in  his  compliments.^^ 

Father  John  ! — Is  it  possible  ! exclaimed  Kate 
Petersham,  wheeling  round  on  the  piano  stool,  and  run- 
ning to  the  door  to  receive  him.  ^^Ho,  hoi  indeed,  so 
there  you  come  at  last,  and  Uncle  Jerry  too  ; surely 
something  extraordinary  must  have  happened  to  bring 
you  all  the  way  to  Castle  Gregory.  Have  you  had  a 
conflagration  or  an  earthquake  in  your  neighborhood  ? 

Hold  your  saucy  tongue,’^  said  the  priest,  slapping 
her  affectionately  on  the  cheek ; youh’e  never  done 
scolding  ; ’pon  my  word,  I had  better  come  here,  bag 
and  baggage,  and  live  at  Castle  Gregory  altogether.^^ 

Youfll  do  no  such  thing,  sir  — I hate  you.  YouYe 
a barbarous  man.  Youhe  the  most  unsocial,  ill-natured, 
hard-hearted  creature  in  the  whole  world. 

0,  to  be  sure,  because  I don^t  spend  all  my  time 
playing  chess  with  the  greatest  mad-pate  in  Christen- 
dom.^’ 

''  Do  you  hear  that.  Uncle  Jerry  ? ” exclaimed  Kate, 
turning  to  Mr.  Guirkie  ; ''  and  the  man  hasn’t  been  here 
to  see  us  once  in  a month.” 

Never  mind  ; we’ll  have  our  revenge  of  him  yet, 
depend  upon  it.  His  neglect  of  you  is  absolutely  un- 
pardonable, after  all  your  professions  of  regard  for  him.” 

Pshaugh  ! he’s  not  worth  my  revenge.  I renounce 
him  ; I shall  take  you  for  my  confidant  in  future,  and 


160 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


leave  him  to  his  beads  and  breviary.  So  come  over 
here,  to  your  old  easy  chair,  and  let  us  have  a quiet  chat 
together  ; and  running  her  arm  into  his,  she  was  hurry- 
ing him  away  to  a corner  of  the  room,  when  the  priest 
laid  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 

Not  so  fast,  Kate ; not  so  fast.  YouVe  forgotten 
there^s  a stranger  in  the  room.  Miss  Petersham,  let  me 
present  to  you  Dr.  Henshaw,  of  Edinburgh,  — Dr.  Ilen- 
shaw.  Miss  Petersham,  of  Castle  Gregory,  one  of  the 
most  mischievous  and  ungovernable  of  her  sex.^^ 

Don^t  believe  him,  Dr.  Henshaw.  I^m  no  such  thing. 
Welcome,  sir,  to  Castle  Gregory.^^ 

How  d^  ye.  do,  my  dear  ? glad  to  see  you,^^  said  the 
latter,  bowing  stiffly,  and  raising  his  gold  spectacles  to 
look  at  her  in  detail.  **  Don^t  trouble  yourself  aboot 
what  Father  John  says.  IPs  not  all  gospel,  I sus- 
pect.^^ 

Nor  his  preaching  either,  if  what  his  bishop  says  be 
true.^^ 

Ha  ! ha  ! A very  serious  charge,  indeed, laughed 
Uncle  Jerry  ; and  no  doubt  reason  enough  for  it  too.^^ 

I see  youVe  been  reading  Swift,  Miss  Petersham, 
said  Henshaw,  taking  a volume  from  the  table.  ''Do  you 
admire  him  ? 

" Swift  — certainly.  Did  you  ever  see  an  Irish  woman 
who  didn^t  ? 

"Well,  I don^t  remember,  parteecularly,  as  to  that. 
But  his  moral  sentiments  are  — 

" Swift  was  an  elegant  writer,  full  of  wit  and  humor 
— and,  best  of  all,  he  loved  his  country,  and  never  was 
ashamed  to  own  it.^^ 

" Ah  ! and  you  think  he  deserves  credit  for  that  ? 

" To  be  sure  I do — why  not?  He  lived  in  times  when 
devotion  to  his  country  and  her  cause  was  a disqualifica- 
tion for  offlce  both  in  church  and  state  ; besides.  Dean 
Swift  was  a near  relation  of  ours  by  the  AVilloughbys,  as 
my  venerable  aunt  would  tell  you.^^ 

" Ah  ! — that  indeed  ! 

" But  don^t  you  like  him,  doctor  ? ’’ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  lEELAND. 


161 


No/^  replied  the  doctor,  gruffly. 

You  don^t ! is  it  possible  1 Why,  I thought  Swift 
was  a favorite  every  where. 

''In  Ireland  — yes.^^ 

" You  must  admit  he’s  witty  and  humorous,  doctor.” 

"Not  very — but  that,  and  a keen  sense  o’  the  ridee- 
culous,  is  about  all  that’s  in  him.” 

"0,  no,  no,  doctor,  I won’t  agree  to  that  at  all;  you 
quite  underrate  Swift.  For  my  part,  I think  there’s  more 
sound  philosophy  in  Swift  than  in  any  other  work  I ever 
read.” 

" Humph  ! have  you  read  much  ? ” 

" No  ; sometimes,  when  the  fit  takes  me,  I pick  up  a 
book  and  read  a page  or  two  here  and  there.” 

" But  do  you  study  what  you  read  ? ” 

" No  ; I’m  too  great  a madcap  for  that.  I can  ride  a 
horse,  though,  or  sail  a boat,  as  well  as  any  Irish  girl 
you’ll  find  ; and  these  are  the  only  accomplishments  I pre- 
tend to  lay  claim  to.” 

"Not  veiy  feminine,  I should  think,”  ejaculated  Ilen- 
shaw,  pursing  out  his  lips,  and  looking  over  at  the  priest, 
with  liis  eyes  dilated  into  what  he  intended  for  a smile. 

"No,  sir  ; but  they  suit  my  turn  of  mind.  And  yet 
Mr.  Guirkie  here  will  tell  you  I’ve  got  some  philosophy 
in  me,  too.” 

" I’ll  have  nothing  to  do  with  your  philosophy,”  said 
Uncle  Jerry,  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,  and  bobbing 
the  skirts  of  his  coat  on  his  hands  behind  him.  " I 
wish  to  the  Lord  the  captain  was  at  home  ; that’s  all  I 
wish,” 

" Father  John,  go  to  the  sideboard  there,  and  find  some 
refreshments,”  said  Kate.  " Come,  doctor,  you  must 
pledge  me  in  good  stout  Burgund}^,  and  I’ll  forgive  what 
you  said  of  Swift.” 

"I  shall  wait  for  the  captain,”  replied  Father  John, 
looking  up  from  the  newspaper  ; " the  doctor  there  will 
oblige  you  at  present.” 

"You  shall  not,  sir;  he  may  not  return  for  an  hour 
yet.  Wait  for  the  captain,  indeed  ! ^Vin’t  I as  good 
14* 


162 


MARY  LEE,  OB 


company  as  the  captain  ? 0,  Dr.  Henshaw,  these  Catho- 

lic priests  are  the  most  un gallant  people  imaginable. 

Dr.  Henshaw  emptied  the  glass  which  Kate  filled  for 
him,  adding,  as  he  laid  it  on  the  sideboard,  you^re  not 
so  mawkish,  I perceive,  as  our  young  ladies  generally 
are.^^ 

0,  Vm  only  an  Irish  girl,  you  know ; I do  what  I 
please  — no  one  minds  me ; Father  John  there  once 
thought  he  could  manage  me,  but  it  failed  him.^^ 

Not  I,’^  replied  the  priest ; I never  was  so  silly  as 
to  think  any  such  thing. 

You  did  indeed,  sir  — you  needn^t  deny  it  ; you  had 
me  in  leading  strings  for  a whole  week  or  more.^^ 

''  How  was  that  ? said  Henshaw. 

He  tried  to  convert  me  — ha,  ha  ! Kept  me  reading 
night  and  day — 

Convert  you  ? — what,  from  sin  ? 

No,  from  Protestantism.  Sin  indeed  ! why,  doctor, 
I'm  ashamed  of  you.^^ 

Well,  Protestanteesm  is  sin  — and  a most  grievous 
sin,  my  good  girl.^^ 

There,  now  youh'e  at  it  again, muttered  Uncle  Jer- 
ry, still  pacing  the  room  in  his  usual  way.  You  Ye  at 
it  again  ; I vow  and  protest  itY  outrageous. 

^Wou  frighten  me,  doctor,^^  said  Kate;  '^upon  my 
word  Pll  run  away  and  leave  you.^^ 

But  doriY  you  know  that  if  you  die  out  o^  the 
Kaatholic  church  youTl  be  lost  ? 

Listen  to  that,/^  exclaimed  Kate. 

I hear  him,^^  said  the  priest;  '^the  doctors  very 
strong  on  that  point. 

Well,  doctor,  I^m  not  prepared  to  dispute  with  you 
about  the  matter  at  present, said  Kate,  but  Pm  pret- 
ty sure  of  one  thing  — you  could  never  make  a Catholic 
of  me  in  that  way.^^ 

HeY  got  himself  into  trouble  again, said  Uncle 
Jerry,  sitting  down  on  a chair  beside  the  priest. 

He  deserves  it,^^  responded  the  latter,  in  a tone  of 
displeasure. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


163 


I declare  I never  saw  a man  in  my  life  so  fond  of 
differing  with  every  body  as  he  is.  Why,  I vow  to  good- 
ness, I thought  he  was  going  to  swallow  me  neck  and 
heels  this  morning  in  the  boat,  when  I attempted  to  de- 
fend Tillotson  and  Burnet. 

''  That’s  his  greatest  fault ; he  can  never  dispute  five 
minutes  without  losing  his  temper. 

''  And  does  he  suppose  people  must  put  up  with  his 
temper  when  he  chooses  to  lose  it  ? I declare  that^s 
very  fine.^^ 

It^s  a great  weakness  in  him,  and  I^m  sorry,  for  he^s 
a man  of  great  mental  ability. 

0,  who  cares  for  his  mental  ability  ? I wouldn^t 
give  a brass  button  for  a man  who  can^t  talk  with  you  on 
any  thing  but  great  heavy  subjects.  And  tlien  he  goes 
at  them  in  such  a way  too,  with  all  his  might,  like  a 
dray  horse  starting  a load.^^ 

''Heavy  subjects  are  his  speciality,^^  observed  Father 
John ; "he  dbn^t  pretend  to  handle  any  thing  else. 
And  indeed,  as  a polemic  and  logician,  he  has  very  few 
equals. 

" But  he  does  pretend  to  handle  every  thing  else. 
Why,  he  reviews  every  book  he  can  lay  his  hands  on  — 
stories,  novels,  poetry,  every  thing  — from  a primer  to  a 
course  of  theology.  Speciality  indeed  ! 

" You’re  right  ; he  has  been  doing  something  that 
way  of  late,  now  that  I remember.  But  the  truth  is,  I 
think  so  little  of  his  literary  criticisms  I don’t  care  to 
read  them.  He  never  should  attempt  to  criticise  such 
books  at  all.  -<»They  are  entirely  out  of  the  sphere  of  his 
taste  and  acquirements.” 

" To  be  sure.” 

" And  then  he  goes  about  them  so  awkwardly.” 

" He,  he,  he  ! ” chuckled  Uncle  Jerry  ; " that  reminds 
me  of  his  last  number.  Did  you  see  his  criticism  on 
Cameron’s  Poems  ? ” 

"No  — what  does  he  do  with  it  ? Strangles  it,  I 
suppose.” 

" Not  at  all ; he  makes  an  exception  to  his  rule.  He 


164 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


praises  it  hugely.  Cameron’s  a Catholic,  you  know,  be- 
sides being  a Scotchman.” 

Ah,  yes,  there’s  something  in  that.” 

In  speaking  of  some  of  the  fine  passages  he  tries 
to  be  exceedingly  nice  in  his  appreciation  of  the  beau- 
ties.” 

''  Nice  ! ” laughed  Father  John  ; that’s  good  ; I 
must  read  the  criticism.” 

Do.  It’s  worth  the  reading,  I assure  you.” 

''  But  he  must  have  gone  about  it  very  awkwardly.” 

Awkwardly  ! He  reminded  me  of  an  elephant  I 
once  saw  picking  up  a bouquet  with  his  trunk.  He  first 
made  a — ” 

Hush  ! here  he  comes,  full  of  indignation  at  Kate’s 
presumptuous  boldness.  See  how  he  runs  his  thumbs 
into  his  waistcoat  pockets  — that’s  a sure  sign  he’s 
ruffled.  Kate,”  he  added,  as  an  offset  to  further  contro- 
versy, can’t  we  have  some  music  ? ” 

''  Certainly  — what  shall  it  be  ? ” 

O’er  the  water  to  Charlie.” 

''  Excellent — just  the  very  thing,”  she  cried,  opening 
the  piano  and  rattling  away.  How  do  you  like  it, 
doctor  ? ” 

Well,  so,  so.  Associations  make  it  pleasant  just 
now.” 

Makes  you  think  of  home  ? ” 

Yes.” 

What  think  you,  though,  of  our  Irish  music  ? ” 

a Very  fair  ; but  it  always  gives  me  the  blues.” 

The  blues  ! ” 

''  Yes.  It’s  so  melancholy.” 

Moore’s  songs  are,  indeed,  rather  melancholy,  but  ex- 
quisite of  their  kind,  nevertheless.” 

Yes  — he’s  a var}^  decent  lyric  poet  — is  Moore; 
and  still  there’s  nothing  in  him,  after  all,  but  sentiment 
and  fancy  — he’s  greatly  wanting  in  force  and  power  of 
thought.” 

That  is  to  say,  he’s  neither  Byron  nor  Milton.” 

No,  I don’t  mean  that,  either.  But  he  tires  you 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


165 


with  the  incessant  play  of  his  fancy.  He  is  forever 
hopping  from  flower  to  flower,  like  a butterfly. 

''  Ah,  then  you  adopt  the  criticisms  of  the  Edinburgh 
Review. 

''I  adopt  no  creeticism.  I make  my  own,^’  replied 
Ilenshaw,  gruffly. 

Well,  you  think  with  the  Scotch  Reviewers,  that  his 
poetiy  is  too  full  of  beauties,  and  hampered  too  much 
with  imagery.^’ 

I think  simply  this  : lie  was  a vary  respectable 
songster  in  his  way,  but  an  immoral  man  a-nd  a bad 
Kaatholic.’^ 

0,  doctor,  that^s  not  fair.  I must  protest  against 
your  bringing  up  our  poet^s  private  character.  It^s  not 
magnanimous  of  you  at  all.^^ 

''  Ilis  poetry,  take  it  all  thro  ugh,  persisted  Henshaw, 
''  has  done  more  to  enervate  and  corrupt  the  minds  of 
the  young,  than  any  other  I^m  acquainted  wi^  ; and  do 
you  know  the  reason.  Miss  Petersham  ? 

Well,  it  was  simply  because  in  losing  his  faith  he 
lost  his  morality  also.^^ 

My  dear  sir,  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  his  faith, 
replied  Kate.  Why,  you  drag  faith  into  every  thing. 
Can^t  we  admire  a man^s  writings  without  first  inquiring 
about  his  faith  ? 

''Yes,  that^s  vary  true  ; but  it  strikes  me  you  value 
faith  too  little,  and  for  that  reason  you  cannot  properly 
estimate  a man^s  writings.  We  Kaatholics  deesapprove 
of  ail  books  and  writings  injurious  to  faith  or  morals. 
You  Protestants  have  no  faith  at  all,  and  you  let  your 
morals  take  care  o^  themselves. 

" flighty  tighty,’^  muttered  Uncle  Jerry,  running  his 
hands  again  under  his  coat  tails,  and  pacing  the  room  as 
before  ; " he^s  at  it  again. 

Father  John  rose  also,  and  turning  Kate  round  on 
the  piano  stool,  commanded  her,  under  pain  of  his 
sovereign  displeasure,  to  play  ‘‘  The  last  rose  of  sum- 


166 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


mer/’  with  Henry  Herz^s  variations  first,  and  then 
sing  it. 

Now,^^  she  exclaimed,  when  she  finished  the  song, 
— now,  Dr.  Henshaw,  I put  it  to  you  as  an  hon- 
orable man  ; did  you,  or  did  you  not,  ever  hear  so  equi- 
site  a song-  as  that  ? 

The  words  or  the  music  ? 

Both  together,  when  played  and  sung  as  they  ought 
to  be.’^ 

Y-e-e-s,  it^s  light,  and  pretty,  and  fanciful,  and  — 

''  No,  no,  sir.  I shall  not  be  put  off  with  that ; but 
tell  me  what  poet  ever  wrote  a song  of  its  kind  equal 
to  that  ? I give  you  the  whole  world  to  find  him  ; not 
even  excepting  your  own  Burns,  Scott,  Tannahill,  and  all 
the  rest.^^ 

I never  trouble  myself  much  aboot  such  trifles, 
responded  Henshaw.  I leave  them  to  the  boys  and 
girls. 

I wish  to  goodness  you  would, muttered  Uncle 
Jerry,  looking  at  the  priest. 

Just  so,^^  replied  the  latter  ; and  if  he  only  knew 

himself  well  enough,  he  would.  Ne  sutor  ultra  crep- 

Hillo  ! what  are  you  doing  there,  Mr.  Guirkie  ? 
exclaimed  Kate;  '^chatting  away  with  Father  John, 
and  I all  alone  here  with  this  great  reviewer,  trying 
to  preserve  my  countrymen  from  utter  annihilation  ; 
come  to  the  rescue,  or  he^ll  not  leave  us  one  of  them  ; 
all,  forsooth,  because  they  happened  to  be  Protestants.^^ 

What^s  the  matter  ? inquired  the  priest,  looking 
over  his  shoulder. 

<<  Why,  he^s  actually  making  mince  meat  of  all  our 
celebrities.  He  has  come  down  now  as  far  as  Burke, 
and  is  cutting  him  up  at  such  a rate  that  nothing  will  be 
left  of  him,  by  and  by,  but  the  bones. 

The  priest  threw  his  legs  across,  and  pulled  down 
his  waistcoat  with  a jerk,  but  said  nothing  in  reply. 

**  You^re  growing  angry, said  Uncle  Jerry. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


167 


No,  Pm  not  an^ry  ; Pm  too  well  accustomed  to  him 
for  that/’ 

Poor  Kate’s  as  mad  as  a hatter  ; look,  how  she  shakes 
her  curls  at  him  ! The  man  might  try  to  be  a little  more 
courteous,  I think.” 

Were  h^  in  any  other  place  but  Castle  Gregory,  he 
wouldn’t  come  off  so  easily,  I assure  you,”  responded 
the  priest. 

There  now,”  cried  Kate,  running  away  from  her  an- 
tagonist, and  flinging  herself  down  beside  Uncle  Jerry  on 
the  sofa  ; ''  I shan’t  dispute  another  syllable  with  him  — 
he  has  no  mercy  at  all.  He  opens  his  great  broadsides 
on  every  thing  indiscriminately,  and  goes  firing  away  at 
you,  all  the  time,  his  ponderous  logic.  I never  met  so 
tremendous  a Catholic  as  Dr.  Henshaw.  He  has  mur- 
dered me  out  and  out.” 

And  why  did  you  continue  at  it  so  long  ? ” 

''  What  could  I do  ? Am  I to  be  challenged  at  my  own 
fireside,  and  by  a stranger,  too,  and  not  fight  ? 0,  could 

I only  get  him  once  aboard  the  Water  Hen,  with  a stiff 
breeze  from  the  southard,  or  on  ^ Moll  Pitcher’s  Back  ’ 
for  a morning’s  heathing,  if  I wouldn’t  have  my  revenge, 
no  matter.” 

So  you’ve  surrendered  at  last,  Kate,”  said  the  priest, 
walking  over  leisurely  to  the  sofa,  and  tapping  his  snuff- 
box on  the  lid. 

Of  course  I have  ; how  could  I understand  all  the 
theories,  and  philosophies,  and  systems  into  which  he 
dragged  me  ? If  he  only  could  talk  as  other  men  do, 
and  on  subjects  that  girls  like  me  are  generally  ac- 
quainted with,  I might  do  well  enough  ; but  not  a thing 
you  can  say  but  he  reduces  to  logic  in  a minute,  and 
measures  it  by  some  one  of  his  new  theories,  as  a haber- 
dasher measures  his  tape.” 

''  He  don’t  give  you  latitude  enough,  Kate,”  said  the 
priest,  taking  a pinch. 

No,  he  holds  you  like  a vice,  and  then  so  bewilders 
you  with  his  newly-imported  principles  and  methods,  and 
so  on,  that  you  don’t  know  what  you’re  saying.  But, 


168 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Father  John,  could  you  guess  how  he  tries  to  account  for 
the  decay  of  nations  ? 

0,  ho  ! the  decay  of  nations,  no  lessJ^ 

'^Yes,  indeed — a subject  I know  as  much  about  as 
old  Thomas  there.  Thomas,  tell  Aunt  Willoughby  Father 
John  wants  to  see  her.^^ 

Well,  let  us  hear  how  he  accounts  for  it.^^ 

Why,  sir,  he  accounts  for  the  decay  of  nations  gen- 
erally, and  of  the  Irish  nation  in  particular,  by  the  laws 
that  regulate  the  circulation  of  matter. 

Ha,  ha  ! Go,  you  mad  creature, said  the  priest, 
again  slapping  her  on  the  cheek;  ^^youYe  making  him 
worse  than  he  is.^^ 

IFs  a positive  fact,  sir,^^  persisted  Kate.  He  says, 
as  the  world  is  developed,  the  attractive  power  of  new 
countries  becomes  greater  than  those  of  the  old,  and 
carry  away  from  their  weaker  neighbors,  through  the 
atmosphere,  more  than  their  share  of  animal  and  vege- 
table life.^^ 

Ha,  ha,  ha  ! laughed  Uncle  Jerry,  quitting  the  sofa, 
and  bobbing  his  skirts  up  and  down  the^  room.  Ha, 
ha ! the  man^s  fit  for  the  mad  house.  I declare  ! ac- 
count for  the  decay  of  nations  by  laws  regulating  the 
circulation  of  matter.  0,  the  Lord  be  about  us  — whaUs 
the  world  coming  to  ? 

That  reminds  me  of  an  article  I read  in  some  maga- 
zine last  week,  where  the  writer  discovers  the.  antipathy 
of  the  Irish  to  the  English  people  to  have  originated  in 
tlie  difference  between  the  Roman  and  the  Celtic  civil- 
izations.^^ 

''He  went  far  back  to  find  it  — didiiT  he  ? said 
Uncle  Jerry,  bobbing  away  as  he  spoke. 

" He  was  right,  neevertheless,^^  said  Henshaw,  who 
had  been  listening.  " I agree  with  him.^’ 

Right  or  wrong, said  the  priest,  " of  what  earthly 
advantage  is  it  to  us  to  discover  the  cause  — is  not  the 
fact  enough  ? 

"No,  sir,  it  is  not  enough  ; as  a priest  and  a Chrees- 
tian,  you  should  feel  happy  to  be  able  to  ascribe  this  na- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


169 


tional  anteepathy  to  a more  creditable  cause  than  the 
memory  of  past  eenjuries/^ 

That  rebuke  is  unmerited  by  me,  Dr.  Henshaw/^ 
responded  the  priest,  kindling  up  a little.  I deplore 
those  unhappy  differences  between  the  two  countries  as 
much  as  any  man.^^ 

And  still  youh'e  never  done  dinning  in  our  ears  how 
youVe  suffered  and  bled,  and  all  that,  under  the  lash  of 
the  Saxon  — in  Scotland  we  are  sick  of  it.^^ 

''Humph!  don^t  doubt  it  in  the  least.  There  has 
been,  I must  confess,  rather  too  much  of  this  clamor 
about  our  rights  and  wrongs.  But,  my  dear  doctor,  deli- 
cacy, I think,  should  restrain  you  from  expressing  your 
opinions  so  freely  on  this  exciting  subject.  Miss  Peters- 
ham, you  must  be  already  aware,  loves  her  country  very 
much,  and  cannot  but  feel  hurt  to  hear  you  speak  of  it  so 
disparagingly.^^ 

" Sir,  I have  never  withheld  my  opeenions  any  where. 
When  I form  opeenions,  I am  not  ashamed  to  avow 
them.^’ 

" But  I tell  you,  doctor,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to 
avow  such  opinions  as  you  have  just  expressed  here.  I 
have  listened  to  you  in  my  own  house,  speaking  in  the 
most  contemptuous  manner  of  our  Irish  writers  and 
statesmen,  and  borne  with  you  patiently,  for  I was  then 
your  host ; but  I cannot  sit  patiently  here  and  hear  you 
outrage  the  feelings  of  a young  and  gentle  girl  at  her 
own  fireside,  and  on  your  very  first  introduction,  because 
she  happens  to  be  a Protestant,  and  is  national  enough 
to  feel  proud  of  her  countrymen. 

Henshaw  was  about  to  reply,  when  the  door  opened, 
and  Mrs.  Willoughby  entered,  carrying  a letter  in  her 
hand.  She  was  evidently  beyond  threescore  and  ten,  to 
judge  from  the  deep  furrows  of  her  cheeks  and  thin 
white  hair  ; and  yet  she  walked  as  sprightly  and  upright 
as  a girl  of  sixteen.  Approaching  Father  John  and  Mr. 
Guirkie  with  a smile  of  welcome,  she  extended  a hand  to 
each,  and  expressed  the  pleasure  she  felt  in  seeing  them 
at  Castle  Gregory. 

15 


170 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Kate/^  she  added  ; ''  where  are  you,  Kate  ? 

Quarrelling  with  Dr.  Henshaw,^’  replied  the  priest. 

0,  the  wild  creature.  She^s  always  at  some  mis- 
chief. Kate,  here^s  a note  from  Mary  Lee.’^ 

In  a moment  the  delighted  girl  was  at  her  aunt^s  side, 
and  kissing  her  hand  fervently  for  having  carried  the 
precious  billet,  bounded  off  again  to  read  it. 

News  for  you.  Uncle  Jerry, she  exclaimed,  as  she 
ran  her  eye  rapidly  over  the  contents:  Mary  Lee  comes 
to-morrow,  and  you  must  stay  to  see  her.  You  can^t  re- 
fuse, for  you  know  how  anxious  you^^e  been  to  converse 
with  her.^^ 

Come  over,^^  ^aid  Uncle  Jerry,  and  sit  beside  me 
here  on  the  sofa ; we  must  talk  a little  of  your  friend. 
Do  you  really  know  who  this  girl  is,  or  whence  she 
came,  or  what^s  to  become  of  her  ? ’’ 

Not  replied  Kate.  All  I know  is,  I love  her 
dearly,  and  that^s  all  I want  to  know.^^ 

But  of  her  father  ? 

She  never  speaks  of  him  ; I never  even  heard  her 
mention  his  name.^^ 

I declare  I — isn’t  that  strange,  and  you  so  in- 
timate ? ” 

Very  — she  told  me  all  about  her  uncle’s  embarrass- 
ment, though.  She  fears  he  can’t  hold  out  much  longer. 
His  creditors  in  Dublin  and  Cork  are  pressing  him  very 
hard,  and  he  has  no  means  left  to  meet  their  demands.” 

God  help  him,  poor  fellow,  God  help  him  ; if  he 
didn’t  happen  to  be  a gentleman,  it  hadn’t  been  half  so 
bad.” 

Have  you  called  to  see  him  yet,  as  you  promised  ? 

No,  I thought  better  of  it.” 

How  so  ? ” 

My  visit  might  be  disagreeable,  perhaps.” 

Disagreeable  ? ” 

Yes  — he  might  feel  embarrassed.” 

^^^What ! ashamed  of  his  poverty  ? ” 

No ; but  if  he  happened  to  find  out  that  I was  the 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


171 


purchaser  of  Mary^s  pictures,  what  should  I do  ? Roger 
would  never  sell  me  a picture  again. 

He  knows  nothing  about  it,^^  said  Kate.  Roger 
would  die  sooner  than  tell  him  ; even  Mary  herself  don^t 
know  who  buys  her  pictures.  She  thinks  Roger  sells 
them  in  Derry  to  a picture  dealer.  All  she  don’t  under- 
stand about  the  matter  is  the  high  price  she  gets  for 
them.” 

''  Nonsense  ! ” ejaculated  Uncle  Jerry  ; she  receives 
*the  value  of  them,  and  not  one  stiver  more  or  less.  I’m 
not  such  a fool  as  to  throw  my  hard-earned  money  away 
for  nothing.” 

^'Fool!”  repeated  Kate,  looking  at  Uncle  Jerry  till 
the  tears  came  to  her  eyes  ; ''I  wish  to  God  we  had 
more  fools  like  you,  then.” 

There  it’s  again,”  said  Uncle  Jerry,  turning  away 
pettishly  from  his  fair  companion,  for  nothing  irritated 
him  more  than  to  charge  him  with  the  crime  of  benevo- 
lence ; there  it’s  again ; always  harping  on  the  same 
string.  I’ll  stay  at  home,  in  future,”  he  continued,  for 
I shan’t  be  plagued  in  this  way  any  longer.  I’ll  not  let 
a beggar  — I’ll  not  let  a man  with  a torn  coat,  nor  a 
woman  with  a child  in  her  arms  — within  a league  of  my 
house ; as  I live  I shan’t.” 

''  Don’t  grow  angry  with  me.  Uncle  Jerry,”  pleaded 
Kate,  taking  his  hand. 

I shall  grow  angry  ; I can’t  help  it ; a saint  couldn’t 
stand  it.  I’ll  turn  off  Mrs.  Motherly  too,  for  she’s  the 
cause  of  all  this.  I can’t  fling  a copper  to  a beggar,  but 
she  reports  it  a pound.  Upon  my  word  it’s  a pretty 
thing  to  be  taken  for  a simpleton  at  the  age  of  sixty 
years  ; humph  ! a mighty  pretty  thing  indeed.” 

only  hinted  at  your  generosity  — I mean  your 
goodness  — in  — a — in  — why,  in  giving  fair  prices  for 
Mary’s  pictures,  that’s  all.” 

‘'Fair  prices  — ” 

"Yes  ; and  I thought  you  wouldn’t  be  angry  with 
me  for  saying 

" Of  course  I wouldn’t ; but  you  said  nothing  of  the 


172 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


kind  — not  a syllable, replied  Uncle  Jerry,  softening 
down  a little,  notwithstanding. 

Because  you  wouldnH  wait  to  hear  me,^^  said  Kate  ; 

I certainly  think  it’s  very  good  and  kind  in  you  to  buy 
these  pictures  from  the  poor  girl  when  you  don’t  want 
them  yourself.  I say  that,  Mr.  Guirkie,  and  I shall 
always  say  so.” 

But  I do  want  them  — I want  all  she  can  paint  for  a 
twelvemonth  to  come  ; and  I wouldn’t  give  one  of  them 
for  twice  the  price  they  cost  me.  Do  you  hear  that,  » 
now,  Miss  Petersham  ? Not  for  twice  the  price.” 

‘'0,  well,”  said  Kate,  humoring  the  whim,  ''that 
accounts  for  it,  then.” 

" Certainly.  You  thought  all  the  time,  I suppose,  I 
bought  these  pictures  as  an  act  of  charity.  He,  he  ! ” he 
chuckled,  endeavoring  all  the  while  to  belie  his  own 
heart;  " when  I buy,  Kate,  I have  an  eye  to  business.” 

Kate  raised  up  hers  in  appeal  against  the  sacrilege, 
but  dared  not  venture  a word. 

" And  that’s  the  real  reason,  Kate,  I don’t  visit  at  the 
lighthouse,”  said  Uncle  Jerry,  holding  his  head  down, 
for  his  conscience  smote  him  for  bearing  false  witness 
against  himself;  " that’s  the  reason,  precisely.” 

"0,  very  well,”  said  Kate  ; " I’m  satisfied  if  you  are.” 

"I  must  acknowledge  it’s  a selfish  motive,”  continued 
Uncle  Jerry  ; " but  I have  been  a man  of  the  world,  and 
doubtless  my  feelings  are  hardened  by  long  intercourse 
with  it.” 

" Hardened  ! And  so  you  won’t  visit  at  the  light- 
house, lest  Roger  should  never  come  with  his  pictures 
again  ? ” 

" Precisely.  If  the  old  man  saw  me  once  there,  he 
should  never  come  knocking  at  my  door  again.  He’s  a 
wonderful  man,  that  Roger,  and  I think  I should  miss 
him  very  much.” 

"He’s  a faithful  creature,”  replied  Kate;  " like  the 
ivy,  he  clings  on  to  the  last  ; when  the  old  house  falls 
into  ruins,  he  falls  with  it.” 

" He  is  very  obliging  to  me,  at  all  events,”  said  Uncle 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


173 


Jerry,  ''to  make  me  the  first  offer.  But  keep  the  secret 
to  yourself,  Kate,^^  (and  he  whispered  the  words  in  her 
ear,)  " don^t  breathe  it  to  a soul  for  your  life.^^ 

"Never  fear  ; Fll  not  discover.^^ 

" And  now,  can  you  tell  me,  has  Mary  Lee  any  friends 
or  relatives  in  or  about  Rathmullen  ? 

" No,  not  that  I know  of.^^ 

" You^re  not  certain  ? 

" Well,  as  certain  as  I can  be,  without  actually  hear- 
ing her  say  so.^^ 

" Then  I must  have  seen  her  ghost, 

" Her  ghost,  forsooth  ! where  ? 

In  Rathmullen  graveyard.’^ 

" 0,  some  one  like  her  you  saw.  She  has  no  rela- 
tives interred  there.  The  Lees,  you  know,  are  absolute 
strangers  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

"So  I understood  ; and  yet,  upon  my  word,  I saw 
her  there,  at  two  different  times,  as  plainly  as  I see  you 
now.  On  both  occasions  it  was  late  in  the  evening,  and 
she  passed  within  a few  yards  of  me,  apparently  on  her 
way  to  the  shore. 

"You  must  have  been  mistaken.  Mary  never  goes 
there  ; I should  hear  of  it,  if  she  did.  Sometimes,  in 
calm  evenings,  she  and  Lanty  Hanlon  take  a run  up  the 
lough  together  in  the  jolly-boat,  but  I never  heard  of  her 
visiting  the  graveyard. 

During  this  little  conversation  between  Uncle  Jerry 
and  Kate,  Dr.  Henshaw  and  Mrs.  Willoughby  were  busily 
engaged  talking  on  various  subjects,  and  particularly 
those  relating  to  Scotch  and  English  society.  Being  of 
an  old  aristocratic  family  herself,  the  good  lady  was  very 
fond  of  speaking  of  her  ancestors,  dating  them  back  as 
far  as  the  Conquest,  and  of  the  various  noble  houses  all 
over  England  and  Scotland,  with  which  she  had  become 
connected  during  a long  succession  of  years.  Dr.  Hen- 
shaw, on  the  other  hand,  coming  as  he  did  from  an  old 
Puritan  stock,  and  still  proud  of  his  grim  old  warrior 
fathers,  was  not  inclined  to  set  much  value  on  his  vener- 
able companion's  reminiscences  of  the  past,  and  indeed 
15* 


174 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


went  so  far  in  his  rough,  brusque  manner  of  speaking  of 
the  English  nobility,  as  to  shock  the  old  lady^s  prepos- 
sessions very  mnch,  and  finally  to  consign  his  own,  as 
well  as  her  ancestors,  to  perdition,  as  enemies  of  the 
Catholic  church.  Fortunately,  however,  a circumstance 
of  rather  a ludicrous  character  occurred  just  then  to 
prevent  an  open  rupture. 

Lanty  Hanlon,  as  the  reader  may  remember,  was  ap- 
pointed to  take  charge  of  the  negro  in  the  boat  house, 
and  keep  him  as  comfortable  as  possible  under  hay  and 
blankets,  till  a carriage  could  be  sent  next  morning  to 
convey  him  to  Greenmount,  if  it  should  so  happen  that 
no  accommodation  could  be  had  for  him  at  Castle  Greg- 
ory. Lanty  waited  patiently  till  the  half  hour  was  up, 
expecting  by  that  time  to  see  some  of  the  castle  servants 
coming  down  to  relieve  him.  But  when  the  half  hour 
passed,  and  no  one  came,  he  began  to  feel  somewhat 
uneasy  at  the  prospect  of  being  obliged  to  sit  up  all 
night  with  so  unsociable  a companion.  The  next  half 
hour  passed  away  also,  and  no  one  came.  Lanty  went 
to  the  door  to  listen  — but  all  in  vain  — not  a sound 
could  he  hear,  but  the  occasional  screech  of  the  peacock 
perched  on  the  old  sun  dial. 

Begorra,^^  he  muttered  to  himself,  at  last,  scratching 
his  head  and  returning  to  his  weary  post,  ''  begorra,  iFs 
a mighty  agreeable  okkipation,  sittin  here  all  alone, 
nurse-tendin  a blackamoor,  an  not  a sowl  within  call  of 
me.  I^d  like  to  know  what  Mary  Kelly  will  say  when 
I^m  not  there  to  take  her  up  to  Ned  Callahan’s  christenin. 
I’m  sayin,  Mr.  Blackamoor,”  he  continued,  turning  to  the 
negro,  who  now  lay  motionless  on  the  flat  of  his  hack, 
I’m  sayin,  ye’d  do  me  a mighty  great  favor  if  ye’d  let 
me  off  till  daybreak.  I’ve  some  weighty  business  on  my 
hands.” 

Berry  sick,  massa,”  responded  the  negro. 

0,  I don’t  dispute  that  in  the  laste.  But  there’s  no 
fear  of  you  dyin  till  mornin,  any  how.” 

Berry  bad,  massa  ; berry  sick  ; no  tink  me  live.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


175 


0;  musha,  bad  luck  to  the  fear  of  ye,  my  augenach ; 
3^er  more  frightened  than  hurt/^ 

Me  no  feel  toes  — none  at  all/’ 

''0,  botheration  to  yer  toes  — I’m  not  goin  to  stay 
here  all  night  nursin  them,  without  as  much  as  a drop  i’ 
drink,  or  even  a draw  of  the  pipe  to  warm  me.  So  start, 
my  darlin  ; I’ll  carry  ye  to  the  castle.” 

You  kill  me,  massa.” 

“ Dang  the  fear  of  ye  — come,  now,  get  up,  my  fine 
fellow  — ye’ll  ride  on  a Christian’s  back,  any  way,  and 
that’s  an  honor  ye  little  expected.” 

The  poor  negro  begged  hard  to  be  left  where  he  was 
for  the  night,  but  Lanty  was  inexorable  ; the  dance  at 
Ned  Callahan’s  christening,  with  Mary  Kelly  for  a part- 
ner, was  too  strong  a temptation.  After  various  twist- 
ings and  turnings,  he  succeeded  at  length  in  seating  the 
invalid  on  the  top  of  an  empty  barrel,  and  then  backing 
in,  wound  the  creature’s  arms  round  his  neck,  and  tied 
them  there  with  his  handkerchief,  lest  he  might  happen 
to  grow  faint,  and  fall  on  the  road.  In  this  fashion 
Lanty  started  off*  with  his  burden,  intending  to  leave  him 
in  one  of  the  out-houses  till  morning.  When  he  reached 
the  castle,  however,  he  found  them  all  locked.  The  only 
door,  in  fact,  he  saw  open  after  hawking  his  load  ail  over 
the  place,  was  the  great  hall  door  of  the  castle  itself. 
So,  afler  some  hesitation,  he  took  courage,  and  in  he 
went.  Looking  round  the  spacious  hall,  and  seeing  no 
one  coming,  he  determined  to  deposit  the  negro  on  a 
door  mat,  and  then,  having  rung  the  bell,  disappear  as 
fast  as  possible.  Unfortunately,  however,  he  selected 
the  wrong  place,  and  worse  still,  in  turning  round  to 
drop  the  negro  behind  him,  he  stumbled  backwards,  burst 
open  the  parlor  door,  where  the  company  we  have  just 
left  were  quietly  seated,  and  rolled  into  the  middle  of 
the  room,  with  the  negro’s  arms  clasped  around  his  neck 
as  tight  as  a vice. 

The  uproar  was  awful.  Mrs.  Willoughby  screamed  ; 
Mr.  Guirkie  shouted  thieves  and  murder  ; Dr.  Ilenshaw 
upset  the  table  and  lights,  in  his  effort  to  catch  his  aris- 


176 


MARY  LEE,  OB 


tocratic  antagonist,  as  she  fell  fainting  from  her  chair. 
Kate  ran  to  one  door,  and  the  priest  groped  his  way  to 
another,  calling  on  the  servants.  Within  the  room  all 
was  darkness  and  confusion.  Uncle  Jerry,  in  his 
attempts  to  escape,  capsized  chairs,  tables,  tumblers, 
decanters,  dumb  waiters,  and  every  thing  else  that  came 
in  • his  way.  Mrs.  Willoughby,  in  a fit  of  hysterics, 
wriggled  furiously  in  the  arms  of  the  tall  reviewer, 
whilst  Lanty  kicked  and  swore  lustily  at  the  **  black- 
guard blackamoor  to  let  him  go. 

At  length  the  servants  came  running  in  with  lights, 
one  after  another,  all  out  of  breath,  and  all  inquiring 
what  had  happened.  The  shouts  and  screams  of  the 
party  had  attracted  to  the  spot  every  domestic  in  the 
house,  from  the  boot  boy  to  the  steward.  But  their  stay 
was  short,  for  the  instant  their  eyes  fell  on  the  negroes 
black  face,  they  mistook  him  for  a certain  gentleman  of 
the  same  color,  and  fled  away,  treading  on  each  other^s 
heels,  and  screeching  like  very  demons,  till  the  din  grew 
ten  times  greater  than  before. 

What^s  all  this  clamor  about  ? ” demanded  the  priest, 
motioning  back  the  affrighted  servants.  Brave  fellows 
you  are,  to  be  scared  in  this  way  by  the  black  face  of 
a poor  African.  But  whereas  Lanty  Hanlon  ? he  in- 
quired, suddenly  recollecting  himself;  '‘eh!  whereas 
Lanty  Hanlon  ? away,  and  bring  the  villain  here  forth- 
with ; he’s  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble.  Bring  him 
here  instantly.” 

“ Lanty  Hanlon,  where  are  you  ? ” shouted  one. 

“ Lanty  Hanlon,  the  priest  wants  you  1 ” cried  another. 

But  no  answer  came.  Lanty  Hanlon  was  gone. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


177 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Dr.  Henshaw^s  Pride  is  deeply  wounded.  — To  he  taken  for 
a Burglar,  and  treated  as  a Burglar,  is  more  than  he  felt 
prepared  to  put  up  with.  — Captain  Petersham  apolo- 
gizes for  his  Blunder,  hut  to  no  Purpose. 

Captain  Petersham,  booted  and  spurred,  and  accompa- 
nied by  an  officer  in  undress  constabulary  uniform,  en- 
tered the  parlor  the  moment  the  servants  rushed  in  with 
the  lights,  and  there  beheld,  to  his  utter  astonishment, 
the  insensible  form  of  his  venerable  aunt,  in  the  arms  of 
a tall,  red-bearded  stranger.  The  groans  of  the  unfortu- 
nate African  on  the  floor,  and  the  cries  of  Uncle  Jerry, 
•mingling  with  the  screams  and  confusion  of  the  affrighted 
servants,  left  him  no  room  to  doubt  the  man  was  a burglar  ; 
and  fired  with  indignation  at  the  outrage  thus  oflered  his 
relative,  he  snatched  a pistol  from  the  mantel-piece,  and 
bounding  over  chairs,  tables,  broken  glasses,  and  every 
thing  else  that  lay  in  his  way,  presented  the  weapon  at 
his  head. 

Villain,  desist,^^  he  cried,  or  I blow  your  brains 
out.^^ 

Hold  on,  sir,^^  ejaculated  Henshaw  ; '^remove  your 
weapon.’^ 

Lay  down  the  lady  on  the  sofa,  sirrah  — lay  her 
down  instantly  ! 

Are  you  mad,  sir  ? — I have  no  — no  — 

Down  with  her,  or  by  — 

The  doctor,  feeling  the  cold  muzzle  of  the  pistol  touch 
his  forehead,  dropped  his  burden  as  suddenly  as  if  she 
had  been  a bar  of  hot  iron,  and  then  drawing  himself  up, 
and  pursing  out  his  lips,  demanded  to  know  who  dared 
assault  him  thus. 

''Silence,  villain/^  again  thundered  the  captain,  "si- 
lence.'^ 

" Sir,  I^m  no  villain,  and  I demand  — 


178 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Another  word ! and  the  excited  captain  again 
raised  his  weapon. 

But  the  police  oflBcer,  fearing  his  fiery  temper  might 
drive  him  to  extremities,  arrested  his  arm,  and  begged 
him  to  ^ see  to  the  lady,  while  he  took  charge  of  the 
prisoner. 

Hold  him  fast,  then,^^  he  cried.  Let  him  escape  at 
your  peril.  Ho  ! there,^^  he  continued,  shouting  to  the 
servants — ^^ho!  there,  rascals;  let  two  or  three  of  you 
remove  Mrs.  Willoughby  to  her  room,  and  the  others 
start  off  and  scour  the  country  for  the  rest  of  the  gang ; 
five  pounds  for  the  first  capture ; come  now,  my  lads, 
lose  no  time ; tumble  out  and  be  active. 

As  the  excited  captain  rushed  from  the  parlor,  after 
issuing  his  orders,  he  came  full  tilt  against  Uncle  Jerry, 
and  laid  him  sprawling  on  his  back. 

Thank  you,^^  said  the  latter;  I^m  exceedingly- 
obliged,  upon  my  word.  Well,  I vow  and  declare, he 
added,  as  he  kicked  up  his  little  gaitered  legs,  and  wrig- 
gled like  a capsized  crab  — I vow  and  declare  there^s 
not  such  another  place  as  Castle  Gregory  in  the  whole 
world. 

' ' Kate  Petersham  ! Kate  Petersham  ! Hilloa,  Kate, 
where  are  you  ? cried  the  captain,  leaving  Mr.  Guirkie 
to  his  own  resources. 

Here,^^  said  a voice  behind  him. 

The  captain  turned,  and  to  his  surprise  beheld  his 
sister  in  an  arm  chair,  her  head  thrown  back,  her  hair  all 
down  over  her  shoulders,  and  her  whole  frame  convulsed 
with  laughter. 

''  What  in  the  name  of  all  the  Furies  does  this  mean  ? 
he  demanded,  beginning  to  suspect  some  mistake. 

But  Kate,  to  save  her  life,  could  not  articulate  a syllable  ; 
all  she  could  do  was  to  point  to  Uncle  Jerry,  on  the  floor. 

Who  is  he  ? said  the  captain  ; and  turning  to  the 
prostrate  man,  he  seized  him  by  his  arm,  and  raised  him 
on  his  feet. 

''  Why,  how  now  ? is  it  possible  ? — good  Heavens  ! — 
how  came  you  here,  Mr.  Guirkie  ? 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


179 


That^s  not  the  l^hing,  captain  ; no,  sir,  that^s  not  the 
thing ; the  question  is,  how  Pm  to  get  away,  for  the 
deviFs  in  the  house/^ 

''  Where  is  Dr.  Henshaw  ? inquired  the  priest,  stop- 
ping a servant  running  across  the  hall. 

''  Who  the  deuce  is  Dr.  Henshaw  ? What — and  Father 
John  here  too?  Can  you  explain  this  uproar.  Father 
Brennan  ? demanded  the  captain. 

'' Lanty  Hanlon^s  the  cause  of  the  whole  of  it  — at 
least  I suspect  as  much  — but  I must  leave  you  with  Mr. 
Guirkie  — he  can  enlighten  you  on  the  subject,  whilst  I 
go  in  quest  of  the  doctor. 

''  Lanty  Hanlon  ! he’s  the  very  devil,  that  fellow.  Why, 
here’s  an  oiOficer  of  police  in  the  house  this  moment,  in 
search  of  him.” 

“ For  what  ? ” 

For  an  aggravated  assault  on  a foreigner  of  the  name 
of  Weeks.” 

The  Yankee  ? ” 

Very  likely.” 

Well,  upon  my  credit,”  said  Uncle  Jerry,  I’m  quite 
sure  he  deserved  all  he  got,  for  he’s  a very  presumptuous 
fellow.  What  d’ye  think,  captain  ? He  had  the  impu- 
dence to  tell  me  that  a horn  on  a hare’s  ear  for  a June  fly 
was  all  a humbug.  Just  imagine  a stranger  tell  me  that, 
after  fishing  over  five  years  in  these  waters.” 

Can  no  one  say  where  Dr.  Henshaw  is  ? ” inquired 
the  priest,  accosting  Mr.  Guirkie  and  the  captain. 

Dr.  Henshaw  again  ! Who  the  mischief  is  Dr.  Hen- 
shaw ? ” 

''  A friend  of  mine  I brought  with  me  to  see'  Castle 
Gregory.” 

He’s  an  awful  man,”  said  Uncle  Jerry. 

Awful  man  ? ” 

Yes,  he  wields  theology  like  a sledge  hammer,  and 
sends  all  Protestants  to  misery  everlasting.” 

Hold,”  exclaimed  the  captain  ; I fear  I’ve  made  a 
confounded  blunder.  Good  Heavens  ! what  have  I done  I 


180 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


That  must  be  the  very  man  I left  j»st  now  in  the  break- 
fast parlor,  in  custody  of  the  officer/^ 

Ha,  ha  ! he,  he  ! chuckled  Uncle  Jerry  again ; 

thaUs  glorious  ! 

Why,  I took  him  for  a robber  in  the  act  of  carrying 
off  my  aunt.’^ 

Excellent ! he,  he  ! excellent  ! Capital  idea,  such  a 
man  as  Dr.  Henshaw  carry  away  your  aunt.  Ha,  ha ! 

Are  you  ready  ? cried  Kate,  marching  up  to  the 
captain  with  a cutting  whip  in  her  hand,  and  the  strap  of 
her  riding  cap  under  her  chin. 

Don^t  provoke  me,  Kate.  Go  away  now.^^ 

What,  sir,  turned  coward  ? and  your  whole  retinue 
in  the  field. 

''  Begone,  I say.^^ 

And  your  venerable  relative  wrested  from  the  arms 
of  one  of  the  gang  ! 

The  captain  retreated  into  the  parlor,  but  Kate  followed 
him. 

"'Shall  I have  the  five  pounds  if  I succeed?  — five 
pounds,  you  know,  for  the  first  capture. 

"Begone  this  minute, ejaculated  the  mortified  cap- 
tain, turning  short  and  pursuing  her ; but  the  mirth- 
loving,  provoking  girl  was  too  swift  for  him,  and  fled  from 
the  room  laughing  till  the  spacious  hall  rang  again. 

But  to  return  to  the  prisoner  in  the  breakfast  parlor. 

The  wrath  of  the  distinguished  reviewer,  on  finding 
himself  shut  up  in  custody  of  a police  officer,  knew  no 
bounds.  " Open  that  door,  sir,’^  he  exclaimed,  violently, 
pointing  at  it  with  his  finger — "open  that  door  een- 
stantly,  and  give  me  free  egress  from  this  infernal 
house. 

" Keep  quiet,  my  good  man,^^  coolly  replied  the  officer 
— " keep  quiet. 

" Stand  from  the  door,^^  vociferated  Henshaw,  raising 
his  clinched  fist,  " or  ril  fell  you  to  the  earth. 

" If  you  don^t  keep  your  temper,  Ull  handcuff  you,^^ 
replied  the  officer,  with  as  much  coolness  as  before. 

" Handcuff  me  ! Sirrah, cried  Henshaw,  running  his 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


181 


thumbs  into  his  waistcoat,  and  swelling  up  till  he 
looked  like  a Jupiter  Tonans.  '^Handcuft*  me  — caitiff, 
cuif ! 

''  I have  shackled  as  strong  men  in  my  time.^^ 

You  preesumptuous  pygmy, growled  the  doctor; 
and  he  shot  at  his  keeper  a look  of  withering  scorn  like 
Glenalvon  when  he  said  to  the  young  Douglas, 

Knowest  thou  not  Glenalvon,  born  to  command 
Ten  thousand  slaves  like  thee  ? ” 

''  Pray,  fellow,  what  do  you  take  me  for  ? at  length 
he  added,  a little  cooled  down  under  the  officer’s  imper- 
turbability of  look  and  tone. 

''  A robber  — caught  in  the  very  act  of  abducting  one 
of  the  ladies  of  the  house.” 

''A  robber!  Look  at  me  again,  sir!  Am  I like  a 
robber  ? ” 

''  Can’t  say  as  to  that.  I’ve  seen  robbers  as  good- 
looking  in  my  time.” 

''  You’re  an  eensolent  scoundrel  ; but  go  on,  play  oot 
the  play.  This  is  my  first  Irish  lesson,  I presume.” 

And  you’ll  find  it  a sharp  one,  too,  I suspect,  before 
it’s  over.” 

Humph  ! you’re  an  Irishman,  I take  it.” 

I am  — what  of  that  ? ” 

Why,  I suspected  as  much,  by  your  insufferable 
eensolence.” 

See  here,  my  good  man  ; that’s  a reflection  on  my 
country,”  said  the  officer,  ''  and  I don’t  like  it.  Say 
what  you  please  of  myself,  as  long  as  you’re  in  my  cus- 
tody— but  if  you  value  your  health,  let  my  country 
alone  ; for  my  knuckles  itch  when  I hear  it  lightly  spoken 
of,  especially  by  a foreigner.” 

At  this  moment  a knock  was  heard  at  the  door,  and 
presently  Captain  Petersham  entered. 

I hasten,”  said  the  portly  captain,  with  a smile  on 
his  honest,  jolly  face  — ''I  hasten,  Dr.  Henshaw,  to  offer 
you  an  apology  for  this  — ” 

Sir,  I shall  accept  no  apology,”  growled  the  doc- 
16 


182 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


tor.  ''All  I require  is  permeession  to  quit  this  house  — 
instantly. 

"But,  my  dear  sir,  will  you  — 

"No,  sir;  youVe  offered  me  an  unpardonable  insult.^^ 

" Will  you  not  listen  to  an  explanation  ? 

" No,  sir  — 1^11  listen  to  no  explanation.'^ 

" Pshaugh  1 nonsense,  my  dear  friend  — don't  take  it 
so  ill.  Why,  I've  been  making  and  apologizing  for 
blunders  all  my  lifetime.  Father  John  here  will  tell  you 
the  little  boys  on  the  streets  call  me  nothing  but  blunder- 
ing Tom  Petersham." 

" That's  a positive  fact,  and  good  reason  for  it,  too," 
muttered  Uncle  Jerry,  ambling  about  the  room,  and  bob- 
bing his  skirts  up  and  down  as  usual. 

" Come,  come,  doctor,"  persisted  the  captain,  again 
offering  his  hand,  " let  us  forget  this  foolish  mistake,  and 
drink  success  to  Bonnie  Scotland  over  a good  stout  bottle 
of  old  Port  — supper  awaits  us  in  the  next  room." 

"You  must  excuse  me,  sir;  I can't  partake  of  your 
hospeetality,"  said  the  doctor  gruffly,  turning  away  and 
moving  to  and  fro  like  a caged  lion. 

"Don't  you  remember  Eolus  ? " said  Uncle  Jerry, 
whispering  in  the  priest's  ear  — Vadit  per  claustram 
magno  cum  murmure  rauco.  He,  he  ! he's  the  very  man." 

" Is  there  no  way  to  conciliate  him  ? " inquired  the 
captain,  turning  to  the  priest. 

" None  that  I know  of." 

" Let  us  start  Kate  at  him,"  said  the  captain;  "if  the 
man  has  a soft  spot  in  his  heart,  she'll  find  it." 

And  Kate  did  beg  and  entreat  him  to  stay  for  the 
night,  and  begged  and  begged  again,  but  all  to  no  pur- 
pose— the  doctor  was  indexible.  Nay,  he  went  even  so 
far  at  last  as  to  rebuke  her  harshly  for  her  familiarity  ; 
and  Kate,  the  poor  kind-hearted  girl,  unaccustomed  to 
such  language,  blushed  like  a child  under  the  reproof,  and 
stole  away,  mortified,  from  the  room. 

" Now,  then,  in  the  name  of  all  the  gods  in  Olympus," 
exclaimed  the  captain,  who  had  been  watching  Kate,  and 
witnessed  her  repulse,  " that  makes  an  end  of  it.  An 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


183 


apology  is  as  much  as  one  gentleman  can  require  of  anoth- 
er, and  IVe  already  satisfied  my  conscience  on  that  point. 
Ho,  there  ! who  waits  — Thomas  ? 

''Here,  sir/^ 

" Let  the  coachman  drive  up  instantly,  and  take  this 
gentleman  home.  Confound  such  stubborn  — sulky  — 
mawworms,^^  he  added,  turning  again  to  the  priest. 
" Pm  sorry,  sir,  for  this  ridiculous  blunder  on  3^our  ac- 
count ; but  hang  me  if  I can  play  the  supplicant  any 
longer.^^ 

" Of  course  not.^^ 

" Should  he  happen  to  be  a gentleman,  and  desire  sat- 
isfaction of  another  kind,  I shall  be  most  happy  to  ac- 
commodate him.  He  can  have  Johnson  of  Birchfield, 
you  know,  in  a moment’s  warning.” 

" No,  no,  captain,”  replied  the  priest,  smiling ; " he 
must  dispense  with  such  favors  for  the  present.  For  my- 
self, I exceedingly  regret  having  brought  him  with  me  to 
Castle  Gregory.  But  there  was  no  help  for  it.  The 
night  was  dark,  and  Mr.  Guirkie  absolutely  refused  to 
part  with  the  negro  till  he  had  seen  you,  and  placed 
him  under  your  special  protection.  I’m  sorry  also  I 
must  accompany  the  doctor  ; for  I had  promised  myself 
a long  chat  with  Kate  on  a certain  interesting  subject 
which — ” 

"Which  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  comparative 
merits  of  the  Anglican  and  Catholic  churches.  I sus- 
pected all  along,  my  dear  fellow,  what  you  and  Kate 
were  about ; but  it’s  no  concern  of  mine  — let  her  please 
herself.  If  she  wishes  to  adopt  a new  form  of  religion, 
I’m  satisfied  — only  let  it  be  a decent  one ; for  by  all  the 
saints  in  the  calendar,  if  she  dared  look  even  sideways 
at  any  of  those  tinkering  religions  they  manufacture  now- 
adays, I’d  hang  her  up  for  the  crows  to  pick.” 

" Ha,  ha ! you  don’t  like  these  new-fangled  systems,  I 
perceive.” 

" Like  them  ! why,  they’re  the  most  damnable  nui- 
sances in  the  country.  One  of  those  canting  fellows  who 
peddle  them  round  here,  called  on  me  last  week,  and 


184 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


after  disgusting  me  with  his  hypocrital  twaddle,  had  the 
impudence  to  invite  me  to  what  he  called  a prayer  meet- 
ing. Ha,  ha  ! By  George,  I had  a good  mind  to  fling 
the  fellow,  neck  and  heels,  out  of  the  window.  No,  sir; 
1 was  bred  a Protestant  myself,  and  intend  to  live  and 
die  one  ; but  Kate  is  old  enough  now  to  know  what 
she’s  about,  and  may,  for  aught  it  concerns  me,  turn 
Catholic,  if  her  taste  lie  that  way  — but  let  her  keep 
clear  of  these  pettifoggers;  that’s  all  the  stipulation  I 
make.” 

Well,  but  suppose,”  observed  the  priest,  smiling — 
suppose  her  taste  led  her  to  adopt  the  Methodist  — ” 

''  0,  hang  the  Methodist.  I’d  rather  see  her  peddle 
eggs  with  a basket  on  her  arm.” 

''  You  don’t  apprehend  much  danger  of  that,  I sup- 
pose ? Kate’s  not  exactly  of  that  turn  of  mind.” 

No  ; but  you  can’t  tell,  sir,  what  may  happen  — you 
can’t  tell.  Those  Hardwrinkles  are  here  night  and  day 
since  she  stopped  going  to  church  on  Sundays.” 

Humph,  and  these  visits  are  intended  to  counteract 
the  influence  of  Mary  Lee,  I suspect.” 

Poor  Mary  ! Is  she  not  a most  fascinating  crea- 
ture?” said  the  captain,  earnestly.  ''I  tell  you  what, 
sir,  I believe  in  my  soul  I’m  in  love  with  that  girl.” 

The  priest  looked  at  the  burly  captain  and  smiled. 

Well,  hang  me  if  I know  what  to  make  of  it ; but  I 
feel  sometimes  as  if  I could  propose  for  her  myself.  Ha, 
ha ! what  think  you  of  that,  sir,  from  a bachelor  of  forty- 
five  ? ” and  the  captain  laughed  till  his  fat  sides  shook 
again  at  the  idea  of  such  a match. 

Yon  would  have  but  little  chance  against  Randall 
Barry,  I fear,”  replied  the  priest. 

The  young  outlaw  ? ” 

Yes  ; and  the  foolish  boy  is  now  somewhere  in  the 
neighborhood,  I understand.” 

''  Saw  him  myself,  and  a devilish  fine-looking  fellow 
he  is  — saw  him  at  the  lighthouse  yesterday.” 

Is  it  possible  ! and  3"ou  didn’t  arrest  him  as  in  duty 
bound  ? You’re  a very  pretty  magistrate,  indeed.  Why, 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


185 


captain,  I must  report  you  to  the  government  as  an  abet- 
tor of  treason/^ 

Nonsense  — Pm  not  a policeman,  to  carry  handcuffs 
in  my  pocket/^ 

But  3^ou  might  have  ordered  his  arrest/^ 

Humph  ! when  I order  the  arrest  of  a fine  young 
fellow  like  that,  whose  only  crime  is  to  love  his  country, 
I shall  be  no  longer  Tom  Petersham.  Still,  if  he  happen 
to  be  brought  before  me,  you  know,  as  a justice  of  the 
peace,  and  fully  identified,  I must  commit  him.^’ 

Of  course  you  must.  The  boy  is  acting  very  rashly 
in  coming  here  at  all,  after  all  the  warnings  he  has 
had.^^ 

He  must  be  a bold  fellow,  knowing  there’s  a reward 
of  three  hundred  pounds  offered  for  his  capture.” 

I wish  to  mercy  he  could  be  induced  to  quit  the 
country  for  a time,  for  if  he  happen  to  be  taken,  Mary 
will  break  her  heart.” 

''  Well,  he  shall  be  arrested,  you  may  depend  on  it, 
sooner  or  later.  Three  hundred  pounds,  these  hard  times, 
is  a strong  temptation.  Why,  this  very  officer,  in  the 
house  now,  chased  him  two  days  ago  from  Buncrana  to 
Lambert’s  Point.” 

''  Carriage  at  the  door,”  cried  a servant. 

And  what  of  supper  ? ” 

On  the  table,  sir.” 

''Come  then,  my  dear  friend,”  said  the  captain,  taking 
the  priest  familiarly  by  the  arm  ; " let  us  pick  a bone  to- 
gether before  you  leave.  Kate,  go  ask  Dr.  Henshaw  to 
join  us.  Where’s  Mr.  Guirkie  ? — Mr.  Guirkie,  come  forth 
— come  forth,  thou  man  of  indescribable  sensibilities.” 

But  Mr.  Guirkie  had  left  the  parlor  a few  minutes  be- 
fore, and  was  now  making  arrangements  with  the  stew- 
ard for  the  safe  conveyance  of  the  African  to  Greenmount 
next  morning.  He  soon  made  his  appearance,  however, 
and  joined  the  captain  and  the  priest  in  a glass  of  wine. 
It  was  all  the  refreshment  they  ventured  to  accept,  as 
Henshaw  still  doggedly  rejected  every  attempt  at  con- 
ciliation. 


16  * 


186 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Well,  good  by,  doctor,^^  said  the  good-natured  cap- 
tain, accompanying  the  party  to  the  steps  of  the  hall 
door  ; I^m  sorry  you  leave  us  in  anger  — but  I know 
you^ll  think  better  of  it  to-morrow.  Good  hy,  sir.^^ 

The  distinguished  reviewer  growled  something  in  reply. 
Kate,^^  said  the  priest,  ''  don^t  neglect  to  cultivate 
the  acquaintance  of  Mary  Lee,  nor  forget  to  read  that 
book  I lent  you  on  the  beauties  of  the  Catholic  religion.^^ 
Never  fear,^^  replied  Kate  ; and  then  having  promised 
Uncle  Jerry  to  see  particular  care  taken  of  his  poor  Afri- 
can, she  waved  her  hand  in  adieu,  and  the  carriage  drove 
off  at  a gallop  down  the  avenue. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


18T 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Kate  and  Else  at  the  Bedside  of  the  Cabin  Boy.  — Else  be- 
gins to  suspect  the  little  Fellow  will  yet  unravel  a Mys- 
tery. — A Visit  from  Kate  Peter  sham  j who  receives  a 
Letter  from  Lanty  Hanlon,  announcing  Randall  Barrfs 
Arrest. 

A SEVERE  attack  of  fever,  resulting  from  the  hardships 
he  endured  in  the  life  boat,  had  now  confined  the  little 
cabin  boy  to  his  room  at  the  lighthouse  for  several  days, 
during  which  Mary  Lee  was  his  constant  attendant,  hard- 
ly ever  leaving  him,  day  or  night. 

Dr.  Camberwell  had  called  to  see  the  patient  sev- 
eral times,  and  as  often  found  Mary  patiently  watching 
by  his  bedside,  with  the  fidelity  and  affection  of  a sister. 
Strongly  did  he  remonstrate  with  her  (as  did  her  uncle 
also)  on  the  imprudence  of  shutting  herself  up  so  con- 
stantly in  the  sick  room,  especially  when  Else  Curley  and 
Roger  O^Shaughnessy  were  there  to  attend  him.  But 
all  in  vain.  Nothing  could  prevail  on  her  to  quit  her 
post.  She  only  smiled,  and  assured  them  she  appre- 
hended no  danger  whatever. 

The  room  in  which  the  boy  lay  was  a small  apartment 
on  the  north  side  of  the  lodge,  directly  over  the  Devil’s 
Gulch,  and  looking  out  on  the  far-famed  Swilly  Rock, 
which  lay  in  the  very  mouth  of  the  lough,  about  half  a 
mile  distant,  showing  its  long  black  back  now  and  then, 
as  the  swells  of  the  sea  broke  over  and  seethed  down  its 
sides.  Beyond  it,  in  the  distance,  appeared  the  rugged 
outline  of  Malin  Head,  casting  its  deep  shadow  far  out  into 
the  sea,  and  frowning  a sulky  defiance  at  each  passing  ship 
as  she  rounded  the  dangerous  bluff.  It  was  to  avoid  that 
headland  the  ill-fated  Saldana’^  ran  for  a harbor,  and 
struck  on  Swilly  Rock.  On  that  rock  she  lost  her  helm 
and  masts,  and  then,  broken  up  by  the  fury  of  the  ocean, 
drifted  in  fragments  to  the  shore. 


188 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


/ 


Every  soul  on  board  perished,  that  night,  but  one  little 
infant  ; and  that  infant,  now  a lovely  girl  of  eighteen, 
her  eyes  turned  to  the  fatal  spot,  was  praying  for  the 
little  wrecked  cabin  boy,  lying  beside  her.  She  was 
kneeling  before  a crucifix,  with  a rosary  in  her  hand,  and 
old  Drake,  resting  his  nose  on  his  shaggy  paws,  was 
peering  up  in  her  face. 

Suddenly  she  turned,  and  looked  towards  the  bed. 

''Sambo — Sambo, muttered  the  boy;  "where  are 
you,  Sambo  V’ 

Mary  rose,  and  advancing  to  the  bedside,  laid  her  hand 
gently  on  the  forehead  of  the  little  sufferer  — it  was  burn- 
ing hot. 

" Sambo,  dear  Sambo, he  again  repeated,  "let  us  re- 
turn home.  Mother  calls  me.^^ 

" It^s  the  crisis,^^  murmured  Mary ; " six  hours  more  will 
terminate  the  contest  between  life  and  death.  0 Mother 
of  God,  Mother  of  our  Eedeemer,^^  she  added,  " save 
this  wandering  boy.^^  And  slowly  sinking  on  her  knees 
again,  she  prayed  and  wept  over  him,  till  the  tears  rolled 
down  her  cheeks,  and  dropped  unheeded  on  the  bed. 

" What^s  that  you^re  doing.  Sambo  ? muttered  the 
^oy  ; "you  scald  me  with  drops  of  lead.^^ 

"Hush,  hush,^^  whispered  Mary  in  his  ear.  "Keep 
quiet ; I^m  with  you.^^ 

" Take  me  home.  Sambo,  take  me  home.’^ 

" Where 

" Where  ! to  Old  Yirginny.  There  it  is,  right  before 
you ; don^t  you  see  the  old  Potomac  ? Massa  shan^t  blame 
you  a mite  — it  was  all  my  fault,  and  ITl  tell  him  so. 
Won^t  you  take  me  back.  Sambo? 

"Yes,  to-morrow  — to-morrow;  but  keep  still  now,  or 
I must  leave  you.^^ 

The  threat  of  desertion  seemed  to  silence  the  little  fel- 
low completely.  Mary  then  applied  a napkin  steeped 
in  vinegar  and  water  to  his  burning  temples,  and  after 
smoothing  his  pillow,  was  returning  to  her  seat  near  the 
window,  when  all  of  a sudden  she  found  herself  clasped 
in  the  arms  of  Kate  Petersham. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


189 


Kate  ! she  exclaimed  ; it  possible  ? 

Yes  — your  own  Kate  — and  I love  you  now  a thou- 
sand times  better  than  ever/^ 

You  won^t  scold  me,  will  you  ? 

Scold  you  ! for  what  ? 

Kot  going  to  see  you,  according  to  promise. 

And  abandon  your  little  charge  there.  No,  no, 
Mary,  I know  your  heart  too  well  for  that.  But  I must 
scold  you  for  something  else,  Mary.  I must  scold  you 
for  staying  here  so  constantly  in  the  sick  room.^’ 

There’s  no  danger  in  the  world,  Kate.” 

Danger ! Why,  Dr.  Camberwell  says  it’s  typhus 
fever,  and  of  the  most  malignant  kind,  too.” 

Well,  but,  dear  Kate,  you  need  not  feel  the  least 
concern  about  that,  for  I’m  not  afraid  of  it ; and  you 
know  where  there’s  no  fear  there’s  no  danger.” 

I don’t  know  any  such  thing.  On  the  contrary,  I’m 
sure  you’re  running  a great  risk.” 

‘'Not  the  slightest.  The  Mother  of  God  will  pro- 
tect me.” 

" Ah,  you  can’t  be  certain  of  that.” 

" Quite  certain.  She  never  forsook  me  yet.” 

" But  if  you’ve  acted  imprudently  and  rashly,  why 
should  she  protect  j^ou  ? ” 

" Listen  to  me,  Kate,  and  when  I tell  you  how  all  this 
happened,  you’ll  say  there’s  something  mysterious  in 
it.  It  was  just  eighteen  years,  to  the  hour,  since  the 
wreck  of  the  Saldana,  the  night  this  poor  boy  was  cast 
ashore  on  Ballyhernan  Strand.  The  circumstance  struck 
me  as  something  strange  when  I heard  it  mentioned  by 
the  warren-keeper  in  the  cabin,  and  pondering  over  it  as 
I wet  the  lips  of  the  little  mariner  with  a spoonful  of 
wine  and  water,  the  idea  occurred  to  me  that  the  Blessed 
Virgin  had  committed  him  to  my  special  care.  You  may 
smile,  Kate,  but  the  providence  of  God  has  its  own  ways 
and  means  of  accomplishing  its  ends.  ' How  very  like  my 
own  fate  is  this  littj^  wanderer’s  ! ’ said  I ; ' perhaps  he, 
too,  has  neither  father  nor  mother  left  to  watch  over 
him.’  Just  as  I muttered  these  words  to  myself,  he 


190 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


raised  his  eyes  to  mine,  and  seemed  to  make  such  an 
appeal  to  my  heart  that  I couldn’t,  for  the  life  of  me, 
say  a syllable  in  reply.  So  I only  nodded  a promise. 
He  understood  it  though,  perfectly,  and  smiled  his 
thanks  as  I gave  it.” 

And  you  feel  bound  by  that  promise,”  said  Kate, 
^'though  not  a word  was  exchanged  between  you.” 

''0,  indeed,  as  for  that,  Kate,  I believe  I had  made 
the  promise  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  before  he  looked  at  me 
at  all.  For  why  should  he  have  been  cast  ashore  that 
night,  of  all  the  nights  in  the  year,  and  consigned  to  my 
care  too,  by  the  doctor,  if  there  hadn’t  been  something 
mysterious  in  it  ? ” 

And  now,  you’re  prepared  to  risk  your  life  to  save 
his  ? ” 

''  No,  no,”  replied  Mary,  throwing  her  arm  round  her 
companion’s  neck,  and  leaning  her  head  gently  on  her 
bosom  — no,  no,  dear  Kate,  there’s  no  risk  for  me, 
since  the  Queen  of  Virgins  has  promised  to  save  me.” 

''  But  may  not  this  be  superstition  ? ” 

''  Superstition  ! 0 Kate,  Kate,  if  you  only  felt  for 

one  short  hour  the  blessed  hopes  which  the  Mother  of 
God  inspires  in  the  hearts  of  her  sufiering  children,  you 
would  speak  less  coldly  of  our  beautiful  religion.  In- 
deed, Kate,  only  for  the  consolations  I have  drawn  for 
the  last  six  years  from  that  pure  fountain  of  pity  and 
love,  I should  long  since  have  sunk  under  the  weight  of 
my  sorrows.” 

Ah,”  responded  Kate,  compassionately;  ''you’ve 
had  sorrows  enough,  poor  child.” 

" And  yet,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  it’s  the  cheerful- 
ness with  which  he  bears  his  misfortunes  that  wounds  me 
the  most.” 

" His  misfortunes  ! Whom  do  you  mean  ? ” 

" My  uncle.” 

" 0,  I thought  you  were  speaking  of  your  own 
griefs.”  • 

No  ; I never  had  any  thing  to  grieve  for  but  him  — 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


191 


he  is  all  the  world,  though,  to  me  ; for,  indeed,  I think, 
Kate,  he  loves  me  more  than  his  life/^ 

Don^t  wonder  much  at  that,  Maiy/^ 

To  see  him  falling,  step  by  step,  from  the  proud  po- 
sition he  once  occupied  among  the  best  and  noblest  of 
the  land  ; to  see  his  friends  — alas  ! they  were  sorry 
friends  — deserting  him  day  after  day  ; to  see  his  cred- 
itors, who  were  wont  to  come  to  him  bowing  in  lowly 
reverence,  now  insolently  rebuking  him  for  his  reckless 
extravagance  ; to  see  his  stables  empty,  his  hounds  all 
dead  and  gone,  his  servants  forsaking  him  one  by  one  ; 
and  to  see  himself  smiling  and  happy-looking  as  a bride- 
groom in  the  midst  of  all  that  desolation,  — 0,  Kate,  it 
was  that  which  almost  broke  my  heart/^ 

''  On  the  contrary,  Mary,  I think  it  should  have  con- 
soled you  to  see  him  bear  his  misfortunes  so  bravely. 

Ah,  yes  ; but  it^s  all  deception  — an  outward  show. 
He  only  affects  to  be  happy  on  my  account/^ 

''You  may  be  mistaken,  Mary;  it^s  his  natural  dis- 
position, perhaps/^ 

" 0,  no,^^  replied  the  gentle  girl ; "I  can  tell  his  very 
thoughts,  though  he  fancies  them  hidden  from  all  the 
world.  Often  have  I watched  his  countenance  as  he 
read  over  those  insulting  letters  of  his  creditors,  and 
seen  how  he  struggled  to  hide  his  indignation  under  a 
smile.  And  now,  Kate,  they  have  found  us  out  at 
last.^^ 

" What  — discovered  your  retreat  ? 

" Yes  ; and  threaten  Mr.  Lee  with  arrest,  if  their  de- 
mands are  not  immediately  satisfied.  One  man  has 
bought  up  several  of  his  bonds,  and  demands  payment 
before  the  first  of  next  month. 

"And  what^s  to  be  done?  Can  my  brother  do  any 
thing  to  avert  the  blow  ? Shall  I speak  to  him  on  the 
subject  ? 

" Not  for  the  world,  Kate.’^ 

" And  why  so  ? ybu  know  he  loves  your  uncle. 

" Yes,  but  for  that  very  reason  he  would  be  the  last 
man  of  whom  he  should  ask  a favor. 


192 


MAEY  LEE,  OK 


To  whom,  then,  will  you  apply  for  help  ? 

I have  applied  already,  Kate,  to  a dear  friend.’^ 

You  have  ? ’’ 

Yes  ; to  one  who  never  refused  me  in  my  need/^ 

Ah  ! I understand  you.  Indeed  I And  you  expect 
succor  from  her.  But  why  not  apply  to  the  Redeemer 
himself  — the  fountain  of  all  goodness  ? 

Because,  dear  Kate,  I fear  Fm  not  worthy  to  ap- 
proach him  ; and  I know,  besides,  he  will  hear  the 
prayer  of  the  Mother  who  bore  him  sooner  than  mine.^^ 

Then  you  apply  to  her  merely  as  an  intercessor  ? 
Why,  I always  thought  you  expected  aid  directly  from 
herself. 

Kate,  Kate,  how  often  have  I told  you  the  con- 
trary ! ’’ 

Yes  ; but  I have  heard  it  preached  about  so  often  in 
your  pulpits. 

Hush  ! some  one  knocks.  Come  inF^ 

The  door  opened,-  and  Else  Curley,  wrapped  in  her  old 
gray  cloak,  entered  the  room. 

Without  uttering  a word  of  recognition  or  apology, 
she  advanced  to  the  bed,  and  laid  her  withered  hand  on 
the  temples  of  the  patient.  Then,  having  satisfied  her- 
self as  to  the  progress  of  the  disease,  she  turned  slowly 
round,  and  throwing  back  her  hood,  addressed  Miss 
Petersham  in  her  usual  hoarse,  hollow  tones  : — 

Young  woman,  why  are  you  here  ? she  demanded. 

That^s  my  own  affair, replied  Kate.  By  what 
right  do  you  ask  ? 

The  right  which  the  age  and  experience  of  eighty 
years  give  me.  I seen  many  a faver,  girl,  in  my  time, 
but  niver  yet  so  dangerous  a faver  as  this.  Away  from 
the  room  — iFs  no  place  for  idle  visitors. 

And  pray,  old  woman,  what  reason  have  you  to  feel 
so  mnch  concern  for  my  safety  ? 

The  raison^s  too  ould,^^  replied  Else,  to  spake  of 
now.  Yer  grandfather,  if  he  lived,  cud  hardly  remim- 
ber  it.  But  here,^^  she  continued,  drawing  a piece  of 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


193 


folded  paper  from  her  bosom,  ''  read  this,  and  judge 
for  yourself,  if  it^s  at  Araheera  Head  ye  ought  to  be/^ 

Kate  took  the  paper  from  her  hand,  and  accompanied 
Mary  to  the  parlor. 

said  Else,  now  that  she  found  herself  alone 
with  the  sick  boy  ; if  he  hasn^t  lost  his  senses,  I^l  try 
what  can  be  done  to  clear  up  this  mystery.  If  the 
nigger  started  back  frightened,  as  Lanty  says,  when  he 
first  seen  Weeks  at  Mr.  Guirkie^s,  he  must  know  some- 
thing about  him  ; and  accordin  to  all  accounts,  the 
nigger  and  the  boy  come  from  the  same  plantation. 

9,y,  there^s  a hole  in  that  wall  somewhere  worth 
the  ferretin.  Look  up,^^  she  continued,  touching  the 
lad  on  the  arm  with  her  fore-finger — '^look  up  and 
spake  to  me.^^ 

Who^s  that?^^  murmured  the  boy,  turning  on  his 
side,  and  gazing  at  the  old  woman  ; are  you  Sambo  ? 

''  Ay,  Fm  Sambo. 

You^re  not  Sambo  — nigger  Sambo. 

Don^t  you  know  me  ? 

Yes,  but  you  sure  youh*e  Sambo  — very  sure  youYe 
Sambo  Nelson  ? 

Quite  sure  — and  what’s  your  name  ? ” 

My  name  — my  name’s  Natty.” 

Natty  what  ? ” 

Natty  Nelson.” 

And  where’s  your  father  ? ” 

My  father  — my  father  — well,  let  me  see,  my  father 
— where’s  my  father  ? ” 

Where  does  he  live  ? ” 

Who  ? ” 

Your  father.” 

''  Sambo,  Sambo,  whisper ; don’t  be  afraid  ; he  shan’t 
flog  you.” 

Who  shan’t  flog  me  ? ” 

''  Father  — old  Danger,  you  know.  So  take  me  back 
to  old  Virginny  — take  me  back,  mother  calls  me.  Lis- 
ten, ain’t  that  the  wash  of  old  Potomac  against  the  ship’s 
side  ? ” 


n 


194 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


'"Hush!  don^t  speak  so  much,  Natty  — tell  me, 
Natty/^ 

''  Ay,  ay,  sir,  by  the  mark  — seven  — send  all  hands 
aloft  — take  in  sail/^ 

Else,  finding  it  now  impossible  to  draw  any  further  in- 
formation from  the  boy,  took  a small  vial  from  her  pocket, 
and  pouring  a few  drops  of  the  contents  into  a spoon, 
gave  it  to  her  patient. 

''There,^^  she  muttered,  that’ll  make  you  sleep  for 
the  nixt  hour  ; and  when  ye  waken,  if  yer  senses  haven’t 
come  back.  I’ll  try  some  other  manes  to  rache  the 
sacret.”  Then  drawing  out  her  stocking,  she  sat  down 
on  a low  stool  by  the  bedside,  and  commenced  her 
knitting. 

This  is  a very  pretty  piece  of  paper  indeed,”  said 
Kate,  looking  at  the  address  as  she  entered  the  parlor. 

To  her  ladyship.  Miss  Petersham.” 

**  Good,  so  far  ; now  for  the  inside.  Eh  ! what  in  the 
name  of  all  the  fairies  is  this  ? ' Lanty  Hanlon  is  my 

name,  and  Ireland  is  my  nashin,  Donegal  is  my  dwillin 
plas,  and  heven  is  my  xpectashin.’  His  expectation,  the 
villain  ! Ha,  ha  ! if  heaven  were  full  of  angels  like  him, 
I’d  rather  be  excused  from  joining  the  company.  It 
must  be  the  fly  leaf  of  the  fellow’s  prayer-book.  But 
hold,  here’s  something  on  the  other  side.” 

This  is  to  let  you  no,  that  ” — here  Kate  suddenly 
dropped  her  voice,  and  read  over  the  remainder  in  silence 
— ''  Eandall  Barry  lies  woondid  and  a prisner  in  Tamny 
Barries,  i’ll  meet  yer  ladyship  this  evenin  at  the  castil 
about  dusk,  behint  the  ould  boat-house,  no  more  at 
presint 

but  remanes  your  abaident  to  command 

Lanty  Hanlon.” 

Any  thing  amiss  ? ” inquired  Mary,  as  Kate  finished 
the  reading  of  the  precious  document — you  look 
alarmed.” 

Alarmed  ! do  I ? 0,  no,  it’s  nothing  particular.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


196 


Laxity’s  full  of  mischief — been  playing  you  some 
trick,  perhaps.” 

Lanty  ! no,  no  — it’s  a mere  trifle  ; I must  get  home, 
however,  as  soon  as  possible.  Please  ring  for  Roger  — 
I want  him  to  call  the  cockswain.” 

As  Mary  turned  to  ring  the  bell,  Roger  made  his  ap- 
pearance at  the  door,  carrying  the  old  silver  salver,  and 
awaiting  the  command  of  his  young  mistress  to  enter. 

Come  in,  Roger ; what  have  you  got  there  ? ” said 
Kate. 

A little  refreshment,  please,  madam.  Mr.  Lee  sends 
his  compliments  to  Miss  Petersham.” 

''  Is  he  at  home  ? ” 

No,  madam  ; he  went  out  in  the  direction  of  Araheera 
a few  minutes  ago,  and  gave  orders  to  have  cake  and 
wine  sent  in  afore  he  left.” 

What  kind  of  wine  is  it,  Roger  ? ” inquired  Kate, 
smiling  over  at  Mary  as  she  put  the  question. 

Ahem  ! what  kind,  madam  ? why,  it’s  a — it’s  — a 
very  delaceous  currant  wine — very  pure  and  delicate.” 

Indeed  ! ” 

And  just  twenty-five  years  old  next  Christmas.  No, 
I make  a mistake  there  — hem  ! — twenty-four  years 
next  Christmas  — ahem  I just  twenty-four  years  — ex- 
actly.” 

0,  it  don’t  matter,”  said  Kate,  laughing  ; a year, 
you  know,  is  nothing.” 

''  It’s  the  wine  Lady  Templeton  ust  to  like  so  much 
when  she  visited  the  castle,  if  you  remember,”  observed 
Roger,  bowing  to  his  mistress. 

''  Currant  wine’s  but  a sorry  beverage  at  best,  Roger,” 
said  Kate,  mischievously. 

''Well,  perhaps,  ladies,  you  would  prefer  Champagne 
or  Sherry  ? ” 

" 0,  no ; no,  Roger,  don’t  trouble  yourself.” 

" No  trouble  in  life,  ma’am  ; only  just  say  so,  and  I’ll 
be  happy  to  serve  them.  But  if  you  try  this  here,  you’ll 
find  it  delaceous.” 


196 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


if  Yery  well  *,  we  must  taste  it  on  your  recommenda- 
tion : and  now,  Eoger,  send  my  men  aboard  — we  must 
leave  instantly/^ 

When  the  old  servant  left  the  room,  Mary  laid  her 
hand  on  Kate^s  shoulder,  and  looking  at  her  affection- 
ately, again  expressed  her  fears  that  something  was 
wrong  at  Castle  Gregory. 

'^Nothing,  Mary  — nothing  whatever.’^ 

And  yet  you  look  deeply  concerned.  Has  Captain 
Petersham  or  Mrs.  Willoughb^^  been  sick  ? 

''  No,  no,  dear  child,  they^re  both  quite  well.  IPs 
something  I must  attend  to  before  to-morrow,  having  no 
immediate  relation  to  any  of  the  family. 

As  Mary  stood  there,  leaning  her  arm  on  her  compan- 
ion's shoulder,  and  looking  wistfully  in  her  face,  she 
exhibited  a form  and  features  of  exquisite  beauty.  The 
rays  of  the  declining  sun  had  just  then  entered  the  win- 
dow, and  for  a second  or  two  bathed  her  whole  person 
in  golden  light,  illumining  her  countenance  with  that 
celestial  glow  which  holy  men  say  overspreads  the  fea- 
tures of  the  seraphim.  Never  breathed  a fairer  form  than 
hers  — never  shone  a fairer  face;  and  yet  the  beauty 
of  her  soul  transcended  far  the  loveliness  of  her  per- 
son. 0,  when  loveliness  of  body  and  soul  unites  in 
woman,  how  truly  does  she  then  reflect  the  image  of 
her  Creator — the  great  source  of  purity,  beauty,  and 
love  ! 

''  Kate,  dear  Kate,'^  murmured  Mary,  when  shall 
we  kneel  together  before  the  same  altar  ? When 
shall  we  become  sisters  in  faith,  as  we  are  now  in 
affection  ? 

''  Sooner,  perhaps,  than  you  anticipate,^’  replied  Kate, 
kissing  the  forehead  of  the  lovely  girl.  * 

You’ve  read  the  little  books  I gave  you  ? ” 

Yes,  and  liked  them  too  ; but  I’ve  been  reading 
another  book,  which  speaks  more  eloquently  of  your 
faith,  and  draws  me  nearer  to  the  threshold  of  your 
church,  than  all  the  controversial  works  ever  written.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


197 


0,  Fm  so  delighted,  dear  Kate  ! What  is  it  ? 

I can^t  tell  you  that/^ 

Why  so  ? 

''You  would  blush  all  over,  and  run  away.^^ 

" Did  I ever  read  it  ? 

" Never,  I believe,  though  it  belongs  to  you,  and  to 
you  alone  ; for  there^s  not  another  like  it  in  the  whole 
world 

Belongs  to  me  ? 

" Yes,  to  your  very  self,  and  jet  you’re  quite  uncon- 
scious of  its  possession  ; but  come  with  me  to  the  steps 
— I must  not  delay  another  minute.” 

The  two  young  friends  now  walked  hand  in  hand 
across  the  green  lawn,  and  stood  at  the  head  of  the 
long  flight  of  steps,  looking  down  at  the  boatmen  pre- 
paring to  leave. 

" Randall’s  coming  here  to-night,”  said  Mary. 

" Boor  fellow  ! 1 wish  he  were  safe  off  to  the  south  ; 

for,  indeed,  he  must  soon  be  caught  if  he  stay  here 
much  longer.  Do  you  remember  him  in  your  prayers, 
Mary  ? ” 

" Sometimes,”  murmured  the  blushing  girl,  looking 
down  on  the  grass  at  her  feet. 

"Then  pray  for  him  earnestly  to-night, whispered 
Kate  ; and  tenderly  embracing  her  dear  young  friend, 
she  ran  down  the  steps  before  the  latter  had  time  to  ask 
a single  word  of  explanation. 

" Now,  my  lads,”  she  cried,  jumping  into  the  stern 
sheets,  and  taking  the  tiller  in  her  own  hands,  "now  for 
it  — out  with  every  oar  in  the  boat,  and  stretch  to  them 
with  a will  ; we  must  make  Castle  Gregory  in  an  hour 
and  twenty  minutes,  if  it  can  be  done  with  oar  and  sail.” 

" Can’t,  Miss  Kate  1 impossible  ! said  the  cockswain, 
tautening  the  foresheet;  "the  ebb  tide  will  meet  us  at 
Dunree.” 

" Not  if  this  breeze  freshens  a little,”  responded  Kate, 
looking  over  her  shoulder;  "and  it  shall  — for  there  it 
comes  dancing  in  to  us  from  the  mouth  of  the  lough.” 

n * 


198 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


As  she  spoke,  the  little  boat,  impelled  by  four  stout 
oarsmen,  shot  out  from  under  the  shadow  of  the  rocks, 
and  began  to  cut  her  way  through  the  waters.  Mary 
stood  for  a moment  looking  down  at  the  receding  form 
of  her  reckless,  light-hearted  companion,  as  she  sat  in 
the  stern  with  her  hand  on  the  rudder ; and  then,  wav- 
ing a last  adieu,  returned  to  resume  her  charge  of  the 
cabin  boy. 


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199 


CHAPTER  XY. 

Week%  begins  to  develop  himself.  — The  Hardwrinkles.  - — 

Robert  HardwrinkWs  ultimate  Designs  on  Mary  Lee. 

— Visit  from  Constabulary  Officer. 

''  Come  in/^  said  Weeks,  glancing  over  Lis  shoulder  at 
the  tall,  dark  form  of  his  cousin,  Robert  Hardwrinkle, 
standing  in  the  doorway.  Come  in  ; I^m  not  engaged. 

‘'Thank  you,^^  said  his  host,  creeping  softly  in,  and 
closing  the  door  noiselessly  behind  him.  “ I thank  you  ; 
I merely  called,  at  my  good  mother^s  request,  to  inquire 
for  your  health.  She  always  fears,  poor  creature,  you^re 
not  well  when  you  doiiH  come  down  to  join  us  in  family 
prayer. 

''  Well,  can^t  say  Pm  sick,  exactly,^^  responded 
Weeks,  throwing  up  his  feet  on  the  back  of  a chair,  and 
offering  his  companion  a cigar,  which  the  latter  modestly 
declined.  “ CaiPt  say  Pm  sick,  though  I hain^t  got 
quite  clear  of  that  confounded  wedding  scrape  yet.  But 
the  fact  is,  my  dear  fellow,  I dread  these  almighty  long 
prayers  of  yours  — I do,  really. 

“ Is  it  possible  ? 

“ A fact  ; I feel  a sorter  out  of  place  like,  sitting 
down  there  in  the  family  circle  — well,  kinder  green,  you 
know.  Why,  it’s  just  like  this  — I ain’t  accustomed  to 
it  exactly  ; business  men  in  the  States  hain’t  got  time  to 
pray,  as  you  do  here  in  the  country.” 

“ Ah,  but,  my  dear  Ephraim,  you  should  make  time, 
for  prayer  is  indispensable  to  salvation.  You  cannot 
please  God  without  it.” 

“ 0,  prayer  is  a very  good  thing,  I allow,”  said  Weeks, 
slowly  puffing  his  cigar,  and  beating  off  the  smoke  with 
his  hand.  It’s  an  excellent  thing  for  those  who  can 
attend  to  it ; but  it  don’t  suit  men  in  trade  to  spend 
whole  hours  at  prayer,  and  neglect  their  business.” 

“All,  but  you  can  attend  to  both,  if  you  only  try.” 


200 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


Why,  we  do  try.  We  read  the  Bible,  and  go  to  ‘ 
meeting  three  times  on  the  Sabbath  ; that^s  about  as 
much,  I reckon,  as  could  reasonably  be  expected.’^ 

''  Perhaps  so.  The  people  of  New  England,  Pm  in- 
formed, have  acquired  a great  reputation  for  sanctity. 

Certain,  and  deserve  it  too,  take  the  hull  of  them  on 
an  average.  There’s  the  women,  for  instance,  and  the 
farmers,  and  the  country  folks  all  round — they’re  all 
church-going  people,  and  do  most  of  the  praying,  while 
the  merchants  and  traders  are  busy  at  their  commercial 
pursuits.  Well,  it’s  just  like  this  : one  class  of  our 
people  does  the  praying,  and  the  other  does  the  trading 
— kind  of  makes  it  easy,  you  know,  on  both  ; so  that, 
take  them  on  the  hull,  they’re  a very  religious  people.” 

Ah,  but,  my  dear  Ephraim,  that  thing  of  halving  the 
worship  of  God  is  forbidden  by  the  rules  of  the  holy 
gospel.  Every  creature  is  bound  to  worship  God,  and 
pray  to  him  always  — in  season  and  out  of  season.” 

''  What ! and  have  their  notes  protested  at  the  bank  ? 
My  dear  fellow,  business  is  a sacred  thing,  and  must  be 
attended  to.” 

Ah,  but  you  forget,  my  good  cousin,  that  the  great, 
and,  indeed,  the  only  business  of  life  is  salvation.” 

Well,  supposing  it  is,  (I  always  thought,  myself, 
salvation  was  a pretty  good  kinder  doctrine  in  a general 
way,  and  I rather  guess  too  the  world  should  hardly  get 
along  so  well  without  it,)  still  you  know  it  won’t  cancel 
a note,  Cousin  Robert.” 

'‘Ephraim!  Ephraim!”  said  Hardwrinkle,  his  cold, 
stern,  sallow  countenance  exhibiting  an  expression  of 
saintly  sorrow  as  he  spoke,  — “ Ephraim,  where  did  you 
learn  to  speak  of  religion  with  such  contemptuous  indif- 
ference ? Have  you  so  soon  forgotten  the  lessons  of 
your  pious  mother  ? She,  indeed,  was  a devoted  servant 
of  the  Lord.  0,  she  was  a holy  soul  — praying  in  sea- 
son and  out  of — ” 

“ Precisely,”  interrupted  Weeks,  taking  the  cigar 
from  his  mouth,  and  knocking  the  ashes  off  with  his 
finger,  “precisely  — that’s  just  it.  She  was  forever 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


201 


running  off  to  contribution  parties  and  prayer  meetings, 
and  neglecting  her  business  at  home.  By  gracious, 
when  father  died  he  warn^t  worth  a five  dollar  bill  in 
the  world,  and  I had  to  slink  off  to  the  south  to  earn  my 
bread,  ^mong  niggers  and  cotton  bales.  It^s  all  very 
well  to  pray,  and  I don^t  object  to  it  no  how  — but  I 
don't  see  either  the  darned  use  in  praying  all  day  and 
neglecting  the  main  point." 

''The  main  point?  and  what's  that,  cousin  ? " 

" What's  that  ? why,  it's  money,  ain't  it  ? " 

" Money ! — you  call  money  the  main  point  ? " 

" Yes,  s^r,"  responded  Weeks,  emphatically  ; "I  call 
it  nothing  else.  Should  admire  to  know  what  you 
call  it." 

" You  shock  me,  Ephraim.  Eeally,  you  shock  me." 

You  don't  say." 

" Why,  you  must  be  a downright  infidel,  to  speak  in 
that  irreverent  manner." 

" Don't  know  about  that.  But  I've  got  my  own  no- 
tions about  religion,  and  ain't  agoin  to  change  them  for 
any  man's  way  of  thinking.  Guess  I'm  old  enough  now 
to  judge  for  myself.  And  as  for  nine  tenths  of  the  reli- 
gions going,  I believe  they're  danged  humbugs." 

" Which  of  the  different  Christian  denominations  do 
you  belong  to,  may  I ask  ? " inquired  Hardwrinkle. 

" Well,  can't  say  I belong  to  any  in  particular.  I 
rather  think,  though,  I like  the  Unitarians  better  than 
most  of  them.  Their  ministers  are  pretty  smart  sorter 
men,  as  a general  thing,  and 'preach  first-rate  sermons 
once  in  a while.  No,  I never  seemed  to  have  any  choice 
in  that  way.  The  fact  is,  I always  calilated  to  do  about 
right  with  every  man,  and  I kinder  thought  that  was  reli- 
gion enough  for  me." 

" Cousin,"  said  Hardwrinkle,  after  a little  reflection, 
" will  you  permit  me  to  ask  you  one  question  ? " 

" Certainly,  my  dear  fellow  ; why  not  ? Ask  as  many 
as  you  please.  Ain't  you  my  cousin  ? " 

" I hope  you  won't  be  offended,  or  think  me  imperti- 
nent, Ephraim.  You're  my  mother’s  sister's  child,  you 


202 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


know,  and  it^s  but  natural  I should  feel  a lively  interest 
in  your  welfare,  spiritual  and  temporal/^ 

''Of  course,  I^m  your  mother^s  sister^s  child — well  ! 

"Well,  it^s  merely  this.  Do  you  really  believe  in  the 
existence  of  God  ? Now,  answer  me  candidly.  It^s 
rather  a strange  question,  but  no  matter.  Do  you  be- 
lieve in  that  dogma  ? 

"Yes,  sir/^  replied  Weeks,  thrusting  his  hands  into 
his  pockets  and  shaking  up  the  silver.  "Yes,  sir,  I 
believe  that  — no  mistake  about  it.^’ 

" The  Lord  be  praised  ! exclaimed  his  pious  cousin, 
turning  up  his  eyes.  " I^m  thankful  you  have  not  fallen 
yet  into  the  lowest  depth  of  the  abyss.  I really  feared, 
Ephraim,  from  your  manner  of  speaking,  you  were  an 
atheist. 

"No,  sir ; I believe  in  two  things  firmly,  and  no  living 
man  can  make  me  change  that  belief.  I believe  in  the 
existence  of  a first  cause,  and  the  perfectibility  of  man.^^ 

" And  is  that  all  ? ’’ 

" That’s  all,  sir  — that’s  the  length  and  breadth  of  my 
creed.” 

" And  how,  think  you,  is  man  to  be  perfected  ? ” 

" Why,  by  reason,  science,  and  experience.  That’s 
about  all  he  needs  — ain’t  it  ? ” 

" And  what  of  religion  ? — shall  it  take  no  part  in  his 
perfection  ? ” 

"Well  — yes,  guess  it  might  help  some  ; that  is,  if 
he’d  only  keep  clear  of  these  darned  isms,  and  adopt 
some  sensible  kind  of  religion  for  himself.  The  worst 
thing  in  the  world,  cousin,  for  a business  man,  is  to  have 
any  thing  to  do  with  the  details  of  religion.  They  sorter 
cramp  him,  you  know.  Let  him  lay  down  a broad  plat- 
form like  mine,  and  stand  upon  it  flat-footed  — that’s  the 
way  to  get  along  in  trade.” 

" And  you’re  quite  serious,  Ephraim,  in  avowing  those 
shocking  sentiments.” 

" Shocking  or  not,  they’re  mine  ; that’s  a fact.  Why, 
look  here,  my  good  friend  ; I have  seen  too  much  of  your 
hair-splitting  religions  in  New  England  not  to  know  what 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


203 


they  are  by  this  time.  Those  deacons,  and  class  leaders, 
and  old  maids,  and  methodistical-looking  crowds  we  see 
going  to  church  every  Sabbath,  with  their  Bibles  under 
their  arms,  are,  in  my  humble  opinion,  a darned  set  of 
dupes  and  impostors,  the  whole  concern  of  them.  There^s 
neither  honor  or  honesty  amongst  them.  By  crackie, 
theyM  cut  your  throat  with  one  hand  and  carry  the  Bible 
in  the  other.  No,  sir,  a first  cause,  and  the  perfectibil- 
ity of  man,  or,  in  other  words,  the  irresistibility  of  hu- 
man progress,  is  about  as  much  as  any  business  man  can 
profess  to  believe  with  safety  to  himself  or  the  interests 
of  trade. 

But  is  that  belief  sufficient  to  save  your  soul  ? 

''  Save  my  soul  ? 0,  that’s  quite  another  affair.  If 

there  be  such  things  as  souls,  (which  is  now  rather  a 
disputed  point,)  why,  the  Creator,  who  made  them, 
knows  best  how  to  take  care  of  them,  I presume.” 

Hard  wrinkle  had  never  heard  such  language  before  on 
the  subject  of  religion.  Bred  in  the  country,  and  little 
acquainted  with  the  world,  he  supposed  that  however 
abandoned  men  might  be,  or  whatever  infidel  sentiments 
they  might  really  entertain,  the  respect  in  which  religion 
was  held  by  the  great  majority  of  mankind  would  natu- 
rally repress  their  inclination  to  avow  them.  Brought 
up,  as  he  was,  a strict  Presbyterian,  and  accustomed  from 
his  childhood  to  hear  religion  spoken  of  with  the  utmost 
reverence,  he  now  appeared  both  astonished  and  hurt  to 
hear  his  cousin  talk  of  it  with  such  cold,  reckless  con- 
tempt. For  himself,  he  was  the  very  impersonation  of  a 
hypocrite.  Mean,  sordid,  and  cunning  as  a Jew,  he  had 
the  bland  smile  and  the  saintly  look  forever  at  his  com- 
mand, and  could  play  the  Christian  or  the  demon,  as  it 
suited  his  purpose,  with  equal  adroitness.  All  his  reli- 
gion was  external.  It  consisted  of  long  prayers,  demure 
looks,  pious  conversation,  black  garments,  and  an  ascetic 
aspect.  At  church  he  was  never  missing  on  the  Sabbath  ; 
hail,  rain,  or  snow,  he  was  there,  sitting  upright  in  his 
pew,  motionless  and  impassible  as  a statue.  And  there, 
too,  sat  his  seven  black  sisters  beside  him,  tall,  thin,  and 


204 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


lank,  like  himself ; not  a white  spot  to  be  seen  about  them 
but  their  pocket  handkerchiefs  ; even  their  very  fans  were 
as  black  as  ebony.  In  the  whole  world  round  never  was 
seen  so  solemn,  staid,  and  church-loving  a family,  from 
Eobert,  the  heir  and  master,  down  to  Deborah,  — or,  as 
she  was  commonly  called  by  her  elder  sisters.  Baby  Deb, 
— now  a young  lady  of  seven  and  twenty.  It  happened, 
however,  that  religion,  by  some  misfortune  or  other, 
instead  of  softening  and  expanding  their  hearts  by  its 
divine  influence,  had  withered  them  up.  Its  gladdening 
and  exhilarating  touch  seemed  only  to  have  chilled  them 
like  an  icicle.  The  bright  look  and  the  pleasant  smile, 
which  denote  the  presence  of  religion  in  the  soul,  were 
never  once  seen  to  light  up  their  features.  Like  melan- 
choly spectres,  dark  and  stern,  they  passed  through  the 
busy  streets,  or  stole  silently  away  in  the  shadows  of  the 
houses — no  one  caring  to  look  after  them,  or  bid  God 
bless  them  for  their  charity.  0 thou  cold,  stern  monk 
of  Geneva,  thou  whose  heart  never  thrilled  with  a 
generous  emotion,  whose  pulse  never  throbbed  with 
sympathy  for  thy  kind,  this  death-like  picture  of  religion 
is  thy  handiwork.  Thou  subtle  betrayer  of  the  human 
conscience,  thou  dark  plotter  of  treason  against  the 
sovereignty  of  the  human  soul,  how  could  you  look  up 
at  the  bright  heavens  above,  and  see  the  blessed  sun 
gladdening  the  earth  with  his  beams,  or  behold  the  stars 
dancing  in  their  orbits  to  the  music  of  the  spheres,  and 
yet  be  demon  enough  to  curse  humanity  with  such  a 
lifeless  religion  as  this  ? 

But  of  all  the  members  of  the  Hard  wrinkle  family, 
Eobert  was  the  most  heartless  ; or  if,  indeed,  he  had  a 
heart  at  all,  it  was  as  callous  as  a stone.  When  the 
stranger  beggar  came  to  his  door,  (for  those  of  the  parish 
knew  him  too  well  to  enter  his  gates,)  he  neither  ordered 
him  from  his  presence  nor  hunted  his  dogs  on  him.  No, 
he  kindly  admonished  the  sufferer  to  guard  against  the 
many  dangers  and  temptations  that  beset  him  in  his  mode 
of  life,  counselled  him  gently  to  beware  of  evil  company, 
and  then  gave  the  shivering  supplicant  a religious  tract 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


205 


to  teach  him  resignation  to  the  will  of  Heaven,  or  a 
Dispensary  ticket  to  procure  ointment  for  his  sores 
Money  was  his  god,  and  he  adored  it.  To  part  with  a 
shilling,  save  in  usury,  was  like  rending  his  heart-strings. 
He  loved  it,  not  for  the  use  he  could  make  of  it  in  giving 
employment  to  others,  or  in  serving  the  interests  of  the 
parish,  without  loss  to  himself,  but  for  the  mere  pleasure 
of  seeing  and  feeling  it  with  his  hands.  In  this  respect 
his  cousin  Ephraim  was  an  entirely  different  man.  He, 
like  a true  Yankee,  was  fond  of  money  too  ; nay,  ready 
to  go  through  fire  and  water  to  obtain  it ; but  yet  he  was 
just  as  ready,  on  the  other  hand,  to  lend  it  to  a neighbor 
in  a pinch,  and  think  it  no  great  obligation  either.  He 
valued  money  only  as  a circulating  medium  — as  an  agent 
to  carry  on  trade,  or  acquire  a position  for  himself  in 
society.  He  was  forever  talking,  to  be  sure,  of  dollars 
and  cents  ; but  still  it  was  evident  to  those  who  happened 
to  be  at  all  acquainted  with  his  disposition  and  habits  of 
life,  that  he  was  by  no  means  a mercenary  man.  Nor  was 
he,  like  most  lovers  of  money,  envious  of  his  neighbors^ 
prosperity  — not  he  ; on  the  contrary,  he  was  pleased  to 
see  every  one  thrive  and  do  well,  and  ready  to  bid  them 
God  speed  into  the  bargain.  There  was  one  peculiarity  in 
him,  however,  which  at  first  sight  looked  rather  damaging 
to  the  character  of  an  honorable  man.  He  never  scrupled 
taking  advantage  of  his  neighbor  in  speculations  ; because 
every  man,  he  contended,  should  have  his  eye  peeled, 
and  deserved  to  suffer  if  he  hadnT.  It  was  by  sharp 
bargains  men  were  made  smart,  and  by  smart  men  trade 
was  made  to  flourish  ; and  if  it  happened  now  and  then 
that  a few  fell  short  of  their  expectations,  why,  the 
country  at  large  eventually  became  the  gainer.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  his  neighbor  happened  to  come  the 
Yankee  over  to  use  a favorite  expression,  it  was 

all  fair  in  war  — he  neither  grudged  nor  grumbled,  but 
'^peeled  his  own  eye  a little  closer,  and  went  off  to 
speculate  on  something  else.  Such  were  the  two  cousins. 
Both  were  fond  of  money  — the  one  to  gloat  over  and 
adore  it,  the  other  to  use  it  as  an  agent  to  attain  the 
18 


206 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


objects  of  his  pride  or  his  ambition.  But  to  proceed 
with  our  story. 

''  Merciful  Heavens  ! exclaimed  Hardwrinkle,  after  a 
long  pause,  during  which  he  seemed  to  have  lost  his 
speech,  for  he  uttered  not  a syllable,  but  kept  looking 
intently  at  his  cousin  ; ^'merciful  Heavens  ! such  an  ex- 
pression from  the  mouth  of  a Christian  man  — ' if  there  he 
such  things  as  souls.’  Ephraim,  Ephraim  ! I fear  you^re 
irretrievably  lost.  0,  let  me  entreat  you  to  pray  for 
light  and  grace  to  dispel  this  darkness  of  unbelief.  0, 
if  you  only  read  the  word  of  God,  join  our  family  prayer 
every  night  and  morning,  and  come  with  me  thrice  on 
the  Sabbath  to  hear  the  outpourings  of  that  faithful 
servant  of  the  Lord,  our  dear  and  reverend  brother,  Mr. 
Eattletext,  be  assured  your  eyes  would  be  opened  to  the 
light  of  glory  shining  through  at  a distance  — ” 

''Say,^^  interrupted  Weeks. 

''  The  light  of  glory  shining  out  to  — ” 

Say,  hold  on;  Eve  heard  all  that  before  — could 
repeat  it  myself  as  slick  as  a deacon.  There^s  no  use  in 
thinking  to  come  it  over  me  with  that  kinder  talk.  What 
I believe,  I believe,  and  I ain^t  agoin  to  believe  nothing 
else,  no  how  you  can  fix  it.  A first  cause,  and  the 
perfectibility  of  man,  is  my  platform. 

''  Ah,  too  broad,  my  dear  friend  — ^ narrow  is  the 
way,^  you  know.^^ 

''Broad — thaEs  just  precisely  what  we  want.  We 
want  a platform  broad  enough  to  cover  the  hull  ground. 
We  are  a young  nation,  sir,  strong,  active,  and  ambitious, 
and  must  have  room  to  stretch  our  arms  east,  west,  north, 
and  south.  Our  resources  are  immense  — inexhaustible, 
and  we  want  a wide  field  to  develop  them — and  that 
field,  I take  it,  sir,  is  the  liberty  of  conscience. 

"You  mean  liberty  to  cheat  and  take  advantage  of 
your  neighbor  if  you  happen  to  be  clever  enough  to 
accomplish  it  with  impunity  ? ” 

" Why  not?  ThaEs  the  life  of  trade,  my  dear  fellow 
— that^s  what  makes  smart  men.  Hence  it  is  the  Yan- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


207 


kees  are  the  smartest  business  men  in  all  creation.  Your 
evangelical  rules  would  ruin  us  in  twelve  months. 

The  laws  of  God  ruin  you  ? Do  you  really  mean 
what  you  say  ? 

Well,  look  here ; I speak  only  of  our  merchant  and 
trading  classes ; with  respect  to  farmers,  laborers,  me- 
chanics, women,  and  all  that  kinder  folks,  they  can  adopt 
as  many  rules  and  regulations  as  they  please,  in  the 
religious  line.  It  don^t  make  any  material  difference,  I 
presume,  one  way  or  other,  since  they  hain^t  got  no 
business  to  transact ; but  you  might  as  well  think  of 
corking  up  the  Atlantic  in  a champagne  bottle,  as  expect 
the  commerce  of  the  States  to  thrive  under  the  old,  stiff, 
evangelical  rules  of  our  grandfathers.^^ 

Ah,  Ephraim,  Ephraim,  speak  with  respect  of  those 
holy  men,^^  said  Hardwrinkle.  0,  I hope  and  pray,^^ 
he  continued,  again  raising  up  his  hands  and  eyes  in 
pious  supplication,  I hope  and  pray  we  may  stand  as 
well  before  the  judgment  seat  as  they  did.^^ 

Cousin  Robert,^^  said  Weeks,  looking  sideways  for  a 
moment  at  the  upturned  face  of  his  companion,  and 
twirling  his  watch  key  as  he  spoke,  — Cousin  Robert, 
youh’e  a very  godly,  pious  man,  I reckon,  and  an  honest 
man  too  ; no  mistake  about  that.  But  pious  people,  let 
me  tell  you,  ainH  always  to  be  trusted ; hold  on  now  a 
minute  ; hold  on  ; Fll  just  give  you  an  instance  in  point. 
I knew  a man  once  in  our  section  of  the  country,  named 
Pratt  — Zeb  Pratt,  they  called  him.  Zeb  was  deacon 
of  the  Methodist  church  in  Ducksville,  for  nearly  ten  years 
in  my  own  time,  and  a real  out  and  out  Christian  of  the 
first  brand.  Well,  he  was  cracked  up  so  for  his  sanctity, 
that  he  went  by  the  name  of  Pious  Zeb,  of  Scrabble 
Hollow.  Now  Zeb  never  was  known  to  be  absent  from 
meetin,  morning,  noon,  or  night  — he  was  punctual  as 
the  town  clock.  Every  Sabbath  morning,  as  the  bell 
rang,  there  was  Zeb  crossing  the  Commons,  with  his  old 
faded  crape  on  his  hat,  and  his  Bible  under  his  arm.  He 
was  president  of  all  the  charitable  societies,  too,  in  the 
district,  attended  all  the  prayer  meetings,  carried  his 


208 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


contributions  of  eggs  and  chickens  every  year  to  the 
minister,  distributed  religious  tracts  to  the  poor  — 

0,  what  a treasure  ! exclaimed  Hardwrinkle,  un- 
consciously interrupting  the  panegyric.  What  a 
treasure  ! 

''Treasure!  What,  Zeb  Pratt!  By  gracious,  he  was 
the  darndest  old  villain  in  all  creation  — he  a treasure  ! 
— the  old  cheat,  heM  swindle  you  out  of  your  eye  teeth. 
Why,  the  old  hypocrite  cleared  out  one  morning  with  all 
the  funds  of  the  Christian  Benevolent  — 

"Letters  for  Mr.  Weeks,^^  said  a servant,  knocking  at 
the  door. 

" Hand  them  here,^^  cried  the  latter,  promptly,  throw- 
ing the  stump  of  his  cigar  into  the  grate,  and  snatching 
his  feet  off  the  back  of  the  chair.  " Ha,  just  what  Pve 
been  expecting  this  whole  week  past  — theyh'e  from  that 
lawyer  of  yours,  Robert. 

" Of  mine  ? 

" Why,  yes,  of  your  choosing.  Rather  slow  though, 
for  my  money. 

" And,  please,  sir.  Miss  Rebecca  wishes  .to  know,^^ 
said  the  servant,  " what  tracts  to  distribute  this  morning, 
sir  ? ’’ 

" Tell  her  it  don^t  matter  a great  deal  which;  but  she 
might  as  well,  perhaps,  try  that  last  package  from  the 
Home  Missionary  Society.^^ 

" Yes,  sir.^^ 

" And,  William  — 

"Yes,  sir.^^ 

" She  had  better  take  Deborah  with  her,  and  leave 
Judith,  Miriam,  and  Rachel  to  meet  Mr.  Sweetsoul,  the 
colporteur,  and  make  arrangements  with  him  about  that 
Sabbath  school  at  Ballymagahey.^’ 

" Yes,  sir ; and  please  your  honor,  sir,  that  woman  is 
here  with  the  three  orphans  from  Ballymastocker.^^ 

" What  woman  ? 

" McGluinchy^s  wife,  sir.  Her  husband  died,  if  you 
remember,  sir,  last  winter,  of  the  black  fever.^^ 

" And  what  does  she  want  with  me  ? 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


209 


Why,  sir,  she  can^t  pay  the  rent,  she  says,  till  the 
new  crop  comes,  and  she  wants  your  honor  to  grant  her 
spareance.  The  bailiff  gave  her  notice  to  quit  yisterday/^ 

Well,  you  must  tell  her,  William,  I pity  her  very 
much.  I do,  indeed,  for  hers  is  a very  bad  case.  But  I 
have  always  made  it  a rule  never  to  interfere  with  the 
law  ; it  must  take  its  course.’^ 

Yes,  sir  ; very  well,  sir  ; and  the  servant  bowed 
and  quitted  the  room. 

So  youVe  heard  from  your  lawyer  at  last,  Ephraim,’^ 
said  Hardwrinkle,  turning  to  his  cousin,  who  had  just 
finished  reading  his  letter. 

''  Y^e-e-s,’^  replied  Weeks,  after  waiting  a whole 
week  for  it.  These  Irish  lawyers  of  yours  are  rather 
slow  coaches,  I expect.^’ 

''  Fast  enough,  Ephraim,  fast  enough  for  the  poor  man, 
when  he  has  their  claims  to  satisfy — ay,  ay.  Heaven 
look  to  the  poor  when  they  happen  to  fall  into  their 
hands. 

Listen  to  his  letter. 

Dear  Sir  : Agreeably  to  your  instructions  of  June 
— , I wrote  yesterday  to  Mr.  Edward  Lee,  notifying 
him  of  the  purchase  of  his  notes  of  hand  for  one  hun- 
dred pounds,  by  Ephraim  0.  B.  Weeks,  Ducksville,  Con- 
necticut, United  States,  now  staying  at  Crohan  House, 
county  Donegal,  and  of  his  (Mr.  Weekses)  anxiety  to 
have  the  debt  cancelled  by  the  first  of  next  month,  or 
secured  by  responsible  indorsers,  as  it  is  his  (Mr. 
Weekses)  intention  to  return  home  as  soon  as  possible. 
Shall  be  happy  to  receive  further  commands,  and  have 
the  honor  to  be 

Your  very  obedient  servant, 

‘^Jeremiah  Diddle  well. 

‘'Dublin,  26  Great  James  street,  June  — 

“ Humph  said  Hardwrinkle,  after  Weeks  had  read 
the  letter  over  ; “so  youVe  made  a beginning. 

“ Certainly.  Uve  got  to ; the  girl  won^t  look  at  me 
18* 


210 


MAHY  LEE,  OE 


otherwise.  I have  now  called  on  her  a dozen  times,  and 
wrote  her  as  many  letters,  and  yet  she  treats  me  as  coldly 
as  if  Vd  been  an  absolute  stranger.  Well  see,  however, 
what  the  screws  can  do.^^ 

''You  say  Lee  himself  never  gave  you  any  encourage- 
ment.^^ 

" Why,  no  ; he  only  kinder  laughs  when  I allude  to 
it.  I swonnie,  I don’t  know  what  to  make  of  the  man. 
His  conduct’s  most  unaccountable.  Why,  he  must  either 
take  me  for  a fool  or  a madman.” 

" You  are  mistaken,  Ephraim  ; he  takes  you  for  neither. 
He  merely  laughs  at  your  presumption  in  aspiring  to  the 
hand  of  such  a high-blooded  girl  as  Mary  Lee.” 

" High-blooded  humbug  — hang  your  high-bloods  ! ” 

"Don’t  feel  offended,  my  dear  Ephraim  — I had  no 
intention  — ” 

" No,  but  that  darned  old  witch.  Else  Curley,  keeps 
talking  to  me  just  in  the  same  style  about  her  aristocracy, 
so  that  I’m  sometimes  most  tempted  to  cowhide  her  for 
her  impudence.  When  I inquire  how  she  gets  along  in 
bringing  things  round,  the  only  answer  I can  get  from  the 
old  rascal  is,  'Wait  a while,  wait  a while,  till  her  pride 
comes  down  another  peg  or  two.’  Yes,  by  crackle,” 
he  continued,  rising  and  pacing  the  room,  with  his  hands 
stuck  down  in  his  pockets  jingling  the  silver  ; " yes, 
wait  a while,  till  her  pride  comes  down  ; just  as  if  the 
grandson  of  an  old  revolutionist  of  seventy-six  warn’t 
good  enough  for  the  best  blood  in  the  land.” 

" My  dear  Ephraim,  you  don’t  understand  the  Irish 
people,  or  you  wouldn’t  talk  so.  They’re  an  old  people, 
you  must  remember,  and,  like  all  old  people,  proud  of 
their  ancestors.  You,  on  the  other  hand,  being  a new 
people,  measure  the  respectability  of  men  and  families  by 
the  amount  of  money  or  property  they’re  possessed  of, 
simply  because  you  have  no  ancestors  yourselves.” 

" Well,  look  here,  cousin  ; be  that  as  it  may,  I’m  not 
agoin  to  stay  here  much  longer,  any  how.  This  affair 
must  be  settled  one  way  or  other.  When  you  wrote  me, 
to  say  this  girl  was  the  daughter  and  heir  of  old  Talbot, 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


211 


I gave  up  my  business  and  came  over  here,  without 
waiting  even  to  bid  my  friends  good  by.  Well,  after 
three  weeks^  search  and  inquiry  in  Cork  and  all  round 
for  the  old  woman  said  to  have  nursed  her,  and  as 
long  spent  in  Dublin  hunting  up  the  certificate  of  her 
mother^s  marriage,  I came  down  here  fully  confident, 
from  your  assurances  of  success,  that  the  girl  and  her 
uncle  were  so  almighty  poor,  theyM  jump  at  my  proposal, 
right  straight  off.  Now  then,  here  I am  all  of  five  weeks 
sneaking  up  and  down  to  that  confounded  lighthouse, 
through  thunder  and  lightning  half  the  time,  and  groping 
my  way  through  rain  and  darkness  the  other  half ; and 
by  crackie,  I ain^t  one  mite  nearer  mj^  object  now  than 
ever.^^ 

I^m  sorry,  Ephraim,  very  sorry  indeed,’^  replied 
Hardwrinkle,  looking  down  and  sighing  regretfully ; 

sorry  you^re  so  much  disappointed  ; but  indeed,  indeed 
it’s  not  my  fault,  for  surely  I’ve  done  all  that  could  rea- 
sonably be  expected  to  expedite  the  affair.  As  for  the 
two  thousand  pounds  you  kindly  promised  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  little  assistance  I might  be  in  the  mat- 
ter, you  know  I should  have  just  as  cheerfully  done  as 
much,  my  dear  Ephraim,  if  you  never  had  promised  a 
farthing.  No,  no  ; money  has  never  influenced  me,  thank 
Heaven.  No,  Ephraim  ; I hope  I have  .a  conscience  to 
direct  me,  and  a heart,  too,  to  love  my  relatives  well 
enough  to  do  them  a kindness  without  expecting  a rec- 
ompense.” 

I know  it,  cousin.  I know  it.  You  have  been  ex- 
ceedingly kind,  and  I ain’t  agoin  to  forget  your  kindness 
either  ; but  just  look  how  the  case  stands.  Here  I’ve 
spent  already ‘five  hundred  dollars  for  the  note,  that  ain’t 
worth  a red  cent.  Of  course,  when  you  recommended 
me  to  buy  it,  you  thought  otherwise,  and  so  I took  your 
advice.  Well,  there’s  four  hundred  dollars  and  over  to 
Else  Curley  ; and  how  can  I tell  but  the  scheming  old 
witch  is  ^ doing  ’ me  all  the  while  ? That  and  my  trav- 
elling expenses,  and  loss  of  time  besides,  will  amount  to 
a pretty  considerable  sum,  let  me  tell  you.” 


212 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


It  is  a pretty  round  sum,  I admit/ ^ muttered  Hard- 
wrinkle. 

''  Well,  it^s  just  such  a sum,^^  said  Weeks,  ''that  Pve 
made  up  my  mind  I ain^t  agoin  to  lose  it  for  nothing. 
I^m  determined  to  have  the  girl  — no  mistake  about  that. 
And  if  she  ain^t  willing  to  marry  me  one  way,  she  shall 
another. 

" Ah,  indeed  ; what  mean  you  by  that,  cousin  ? 

"Well,  Fve  got  my  own  notions  about  it;  thaPs  all. 
By  jolly,  I ain^t  agoin  home  to  Ducksville  again  empty- 
handed  — catch  me  at  it ! 

" You  wouldn^t  carry  her  off  by  force  — would  you, 
eh  ? said  Hard  wrinkle,  dropping  his  voice  to  a whisper, 
and  looking  round  the  room  to  see  if  the  doors  were 
closed. 

" The  thing  has  been  done,^^  replied  Weeks,  " and 
pretty  often  too  in  this  country  of  yours,  if  I ain^t  great- 
ly mistaken.'^ 

" Yes,  I admit  it  has  occasionally  been  done.  But  in 
this  case  I can  hardly  see  how  it  could  be  accomplished 
without  danger. 

" Why,  there’s  such  a thing  as  a boat  to  be  had,  I 
guess,  and  the  distance  to  carry  her  ain’t  so  very  far  that 
you  can’t  find  half  a dozen  stout  fellows  to  do  it.  I 
shouldn’t  like  much,  though,  to  go  to  these  extremes  if 
there  was  any  possibility  of  obtaining  her  consent  by 
other  means.  But  have  her  I shall — no  mistake  about 
that.” 

"Hush,  hush!”  ejaculated  Hardwrinkle ; "there’s 
some  one  at  the  door — come  in.” 

The  door  opened,  and  an  active,  muscular-looking  man, 
of  middle  age,  entered  and  advanced  to  the  table  at  which 
Hardwrinkle  was  sitting.  He  was  the  officer  of  constabu- 
lary whom  the  reader  has  seen  a few  nights  before  at 
Castle  Gregory,  with  Captain  Petersham. 

"Ah,  it’s  you,  is  it?”  exclaimed  Hardwrinkle,  rising 
suddenly  from  his  chair.  " Well,  any  news  of  Barry  ? ” 

" He’s  arrested,  sir,  and  now  a prisoner  in  Tamny  bar- 
racks.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


213 


What,  arrested  I eh ! that^s  capital  news.  Please 
step  to  the  next  room  — excuse  me,  Mr.  Weeks;  Pll 
return  presently. 

Go  ahead  — don^t  mind  me,^'  replied  Weeks,  draw- 
ing a cigar  from  his  case  and  preparing  to  light  it. 

Now,^^  said  Hardwrinkle,  carefully  closing  the  door, 
'*now  for  the  details.  Mr.  Weekses  notions  of  these 
young  revolutionists  don^t  exactly  harmonize  with  ours, 
you  know,  so  it^s  just  as  well  he  don^t  hear  our  conversa- 
tion on  the  subject.  Now  for  your  story. 

Well,  sir,  we  crossed  the  ferry,  as  you  suggested, 
proceeded  on  to  Doe  Castle,  and  thence  to  Rann  Point. 
There  we  met  the  man  who  gave  you  the  information  first 
about  Barry^s  intention  to  escape  — I forget  his  name  — 
he^s  one  of  your  tenants. 

Carson,  you  mean.^^ 

'"No,  sir ; the  man  you  sent  down  to  spy  about  the 
lightliouse,  you  remember ; the  one  who  listened  at  Else 
Curley^s  door,  and  overheard  the  conversation  between 
her  and  Barry  about  his  going  to  Aranmore.^^ 

0,  yes,  yes  ; Barker,  the  Bible  reader.^^ 

‘^Barker — precisely  — that’s  the  man;  a pious  soul 
he  is,  too.^’ 

'Wery  — very,  indeed.  He’s  a most  excellent  man, 
is  Barker.” 

**  Well,  sir,  we  met  him  coming  up  from  the  shore, 
where  he  had  been  distributing  tracts  among  the  fisher- 
men,  by  way  of  an  excuse.  He  told  us  he  had  just  seen 
Barry  jump  from  a boat  in  company  of  three  or  four  stout 
fellows,  and  enter  one  of  the  huts.  They  were  all 
strangers  to  him,  he  said,  except  Barry  himself,  and 
another  who  seemed  to  be  the  most  active  of  the  party, 
and  whom  he  had  seen  before,  but  couldn’t  remember 
where.” 

Stop  a moment ; did  he  describe  his  dress  or  per- 
son ? ” 

*^He  did,  but  I paid  little  attention  to  it,  not  thinking 
it  a matter  of  much  consequence.  It  appears  to  me, 


214 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


though,  he  said  something  about  his  wearing  a green 
jacket  or  a fur  cap,  or  something  to  that  effect/^ 

''  The  very  man,  sir  ; that^s  Lanty  Hanlon,  if  he^s 
alive,  and  quite  as  dangerous  a man,  too,  as  Barry/ ^ 

''Lanty  Hanlon  — impossible,  sir.  You  mean  the  fel- 
low against  whom  you  issued  the  warrant  for  the  assault 
on  Mr.  Weeks  ? ’’ 

" The  identical  person.^’ 

"Pardon  me  — that  cannot  be,  Mr.  Hardwrinkle  — 
Hanlon  was  seen  at  a cockfight  in  Kindrum  not  six  hours 
ago.^’ 

"I  have  no  doubt  of  that,^^  replied  Hardwrinkle. 
" But,  my  dear  sir,  you  little  know  what  that  villain  is 
capable  of  doing.  Why,  sir,  it  was  once  sworn  on  oath 
before  me,  that  this  very  Lanty  Hanlon  was  seen  at  a 
wake  in  Gran  tin  Glen,  at  a wedding  in  Bally  magahey, 
and  at  a christening  in  Callen,  the  self-same  night,  and 
yet  these  places  are  seven  miles  apart,  and  nearly  equi- 
distant from  each  other. 

" He  must  be  an  extraordinary  man,^^  said  the  officer, 
smiling  incredulously. 

" He^s  a most  dangerous  man,  sir,  to  be  permitted  to 
go  free  in  any  community.  What  do  you  think,  sir  ? — 
that  fellow  met  one  of  Mr.  Johnston^s  gamekeepers  on 
Benraven  Mountain,  some  six  weeks  ago,  where  he  hap- 
pened to  be  coursing  for  hares.  Well,  sir,  he  first  took 
the  gun  from  the  keeper,  and  then  left  him  gagged  and 
tied  to  a tree  for  the  whole  night ; and  next  morning, 
when  the  unfortunate  man  was  accidentally  discovered  by 
one  of  the  herdsmen,  he  was  more  dead  than  alive  from 
cold  and  h linger. 

"Was  he  punished  for  the  outrage  ? 

"No,  sir;  he  managed  to  escape  that  very  cleverly. 
The  moment  he  secured  the  keeper,  he  jumped  on  the 
first  horse  he  found  on  the  mountain,  galloped  for  life  to 
Sandy  Mount,  then,  secreting  the  horse  among  the  trees, 
walked  into  Mr.  Johnston^s  parlor,  and  having  apologized 
to  that  gentleman  for  having,  contrary  to  law,  shot  some 
grouse  on  his  preserves,  and  obtained  his  pardon,  again 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


216 


mounted,  rode  back,  and  left  the  horse  where  he  found 
him.  Next  morning,  when  the  gamekeeper  returned  and 
made  his  complaint  against  Hanlon,  Mr.  Johnston  ordered 
him  instantly  from  his  presence,  called  him  a drunkard 
and  a liar,  and  protested  he  had  never  heard  of  such  an 
attempt  at  imposition  in  his  life  — Hanlon  having  been 
that  very  night,  and  at  the  very  time  the  outrage  was 
alleged  to  have  been  perpetrated,  standing  before  him 
in  his  own  room.  But  with  respect  to  Barry,  how  did 
you  succeed  in  arresting  him  ? 

Simply  enough,  sir.  We  hired  a boat,  got  our  men 
in,  and  lay  at  anchor  some  five  or  six  fathoms  from  the 
beach,  knowing  well  Barry  and  his  party  would  endeavor 
to  escape  next  morning  at  daybreak,  by  rowing  along  the 
shore  as  far  as  Horn  Head,  and  there  set  sail  for  Aran- 
more.  It  turned  out  just  as  we  expected.  At  the  first 
peep  of  day,  the  party  got  into  the  boat  and  shoved  off. 
They  were  ahead  of  us  when  they  started,  and  we  let 
them  keep  ahead  for  two  miles  or  more,  till  we  had  gone 
clear  out  of  sight  of  the  fishermen^s  huts.  Then,  stretch- 
ing to  our  oars,  we  soon  came  alongside,  and  grappled 
with  irons  we  had  taken  with  us  for  the  purpose. 

Hah  ! and  so  secured  him  at  last  ? 

Yes,  sir,  we  secured  him,  but  not  without  consider- 
able difficulty. 

What ! did  he  resist  ? 

Kesist  ! yes,  as  man  never  resisted  before.  It  ap- 
pears the  crew  that  conveyed  him  to  Bann  Point  left  him 
there,  and  returned  home,  confident  he  was  out  of  all 
danger,  and  the  fresh  hands  appointed  to  convey  him  to 
Aranmore  were  old  men,  hardly  able  to  paddle  an  oar  or 
handle  a sheet.  He  was,  therefore,  left  to  depend  almost 
entirely  upon  his  own  resources.  The  instant  we  laid 
hold  of  the  gunwale  of  his  boat,  he  sprang  up  in  the 
stern  sheets,  and  demanded  what  we  meant  by  stopping 
him.  M^m  a queen^s  officer,^  said  I,  ' and  hold  a warrant 
for  your  arrest.^ 

''  ' Ah,  a queen^s  officer,^  he  repeated,  glancing  at  my 
civilian  dress.  ' Indeed ! Well,  sir,  take  me  if  you 


216 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


can  ; ^ and  coolly  drawing  a pistol  from  his  belt,  he  said 
to  his  men,  ' Comrades,  youMl  find  another  pair  in  my 
overcoat  ; use  them  if  necessary/  Then  stepping  across 
the  thwarts,  and  before  I could  rise  from  my  seat,  he 
snatched  the  anchor  from  the  bows  of  his  boat,  and  with 
one  hand  swung  it  as  he  would  a walking-stick  into  the 
bottom  of  ours.  The  effect  was  instantaneous  ; the 
sharp  iron  cut  right  through  the  thin  sheathing  of  the 
little  gig,  and  in  two  minutes  she  filled  to  her  water 
line. 

'''Now,  my  lads,^  he  cried,  'loose  the  grapples,  and 
away  with  them.^ 

" Good  Heavens  ! exclaimed  Hardwrinkle  ; " his  ob- 
ject was  to  sink  you.^^ 

" Of  course  it  was  — and  a bold  attempt  he  made  to 
accomplish  it.  When  I saw  how  desperate  the  case  was 
likely  to  prove,  I ordered  my  men  to  jump  aboard  and 
secure  him  at  all  hazards,  leaving  our  own  boat  to  her 
fate ; and  setting  them  the  example  myself,  I sprang  into 
the  stern,  presented  a pistol  at  his  head,  and  commanded 
him  to  surrender,  or  I should  instantly  fire.  I had  hard- 
ly uttered  the  words,  however,  when  the  board  on  which 
I stood  was  struck  from  under  me,  and  in  another  second 
I found  myself  in  the  water,  plunging  and  grasping  for 
something  to  lay  hold  of.  By  this  time  my  men  had  suc- 
ceeded in  scrambling  over  his  boat^s  side  ; so  they  im- 
mediately took  me  in,  and  then  unhooked  the  grapple  to 
relieve  us  of  the  sinking  gig.  But  now  that  we  did  suc- 
ceed in  boarding  him,  we  found  ourselves  in  a greater 
difficulty  than  ever.  Our  firearms  were  entirely  useless, 
— the  powder  being  wet  with  the  sea  water,  — and  there 
stood  the  young  outlaw,  pointing  a brace  of  pistols  at 
our  heads.  ' Surrender,'  said  I ; ^ I command  you,  in 
the  name  of  the  queen,  to  surrender  instantly.' 

" ' Ha,  ha  ! ' he  laughed  — ' surrender  to  hounds  like 
you  ! 0 for  the  firm  earth  to  stand  on,  and  a good  thong 

to  kennel  such  cowardly  dogs.  A pistol  bullet  is  too 
honorable  a death  for  such  drivelling  slaves.' 

" This  taunt  stung  me  to  the  quick  ; and  calling  on  my 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


217 


men  to  rush  on  him  in  a body,  I sprang  forward  myself 
to  seize  him  ; but,  alas,  I was  again  unfortunate,  and  fell 
flat  on  my  face  on  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  In  another 
instant  his  heel  was  on  my  neck.’’ 

''  ' Lie  there,  dog ! ’ he  cried,  crushing  me  till  my  eyes 
seemed  to  start  from  their  sockets ; ^ lie  there,  and  die 
the  only  death  you  deserve.’  But  the  braggart,  in  his 
turn,  had  little  time  to  enjoy  his  advantage  ; for  my  men, 
seeing  the  danger  I was  iu,  and  maddened  by  the  fellow’s 
scornful  language,  closed  in  upon  him.  As  they  rushed 
forward,  he  fired  both  pistols  in  their  faces,  and  two  of 
them  fell  wounded  beside  me.” 

^'Dreadful!  ” exclaimed  Hardwrinkle. 

* Now,’  cried  I,  rising  from  my  disgraceful  position, 

* now,  my  men,  hold  him  ; handcuff  him  ; kill  him  if  he 
attempt  to  escape.’  But  my  orders  were  of  no  avail, 
for  he  had  sprung  into  the  sea,  and  was  making  for  the 
shore. 

‘ He’s  gone,  sir,’  cried  one  of  the  men. 

* Gone  ! ’ , 

'' ' Yes  ; there  he  is,  with  his  coat  off,  swimming  away 

from  us  like  a water  dog.’ 

^ What’s  to  be  done  ? what’s  to  be  done  ? ’ I cried 
in  an  agony  of  disappointment.  ' Has  no  one  presence 
of  mind  to  think,  of  some  means  to  capture  him  ? He’s 
within  half  a gunshot  of  the  beach,  and  will  reach  it  be- 
fore we  can  get  our  oars  into  the  rollocks.’ 

Just  then  the  thought  of  the  firearms  in  his  over- 
coat occurred  to  me,  and  snatching  up  the  garment,  I 
drew  a holster  pistol  from  its  pocket,  and  aiming  as  de- 
liberately as  I could  in  a moment  of  such  excitement,  fired. 
The  ball,  as  good  fortune  would  have  it,  struck  him  on 
the  right  arm,  and  disabled  him.  ^ Now,’  cried  I,  as  I 
saw  him  sputter  in  the  water  like  a wounded  bird,  ' now, 
my  lads,  to  your  oars,  and  pull  for  your  lives  — pull  — 
pull  — with  all  your  might,  or  he  sinks  before  we  can 
reach  him.’ 

In  another  minute  we  had  taken  him  aboard,  ex- 
hausted and  bleeding,  and  there  he  lay  in  the  boat’s  bows, 
19 


218 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


without  word  or  motion  of  any  kind,  till  we  reached  the 
quay  under  Tamny  Barracks/^ 

Well,  thank  Heaven, said  Hardwrinkle,  ''  he^s  safe 
for  the  present  at  least,  and  to-morrow  I sign  his  committal 

to  Lefibrd  jail.  As  for  you,  Mr.  C , you  have  done 

your  duty  as  a faithful  servant  of  the  crown,  and  shall 
not  go  unrewarded.  And  now  let  us  return  and  carry 
the  good  news  to  Mr.  Weeks. 

'^My  dear  cousin,’^  said  Hardwrinkle,  entering  Weekses 
room,  followed  by  the  officer  of  constabulary,  I have 
good  tidings  for  you.’^ 

You  have  — eh  ? 

Yes,  tidings  of  great  import.^' 

^'Indeed  — let^s  hear  what  they  Ye  like.^^ 

Why,  Eandall  Barry  (your  rival), he  said,  whisper- 
ing the  word  in  his  ear,  ^'is  a prisoner  in  Tamny  Bar- 
racks. 

Pshoh  — you  donY  say  so  ? Is  it  possible  ? 

A fact,  sir/^ 

• On  what  charge,  pray  ? ’’ 

Treason  — treason  against  the  state.  YouVe  heard 
all  about  him  — have  you  not  ? 

Why,  yes,  Fve  heard  of  his  being  connected  with 
some  young  revolutionists  — thatY  all.^^ 

Humph  ! you  speak  lightly  of  the  matter,  my  good 
cousin. 

‘'And  I think  lightly  of  it  too,^^  replied  Weeks, 
promptly,  “ so  far  as  it  may  be  regarded  as  a crime. 
Were  I in  his  place,  I should  do  precisely  what  he  has 
done.^^ 

“ What,  revolutionize  the  country  ? 

“ Yes,  by  crackie.  It’s  full  time,  I should  think,  the 
people  got  rid  of  these  old  fogy  monarchies  of  yours. 
These  darned  old  tyrannical  governments  ought  to  have 
been  sent  to  kingdom  come  long  ago.  As  for  his  being 
a rival  of  mine,  why,  I donY  think  the  less  of  him  for 
that ; and  if  you  have  busied  yourself  about  his  arrest 
on  that  account,  I tell  you,  Kobert,  you  make  an  almighty 


THE  YANEIEE  IN  IRELAND. 


219 


mistake  if  you  think  Fm  under  any  obligation  to  you  for 
the  job/^ 

Why,  cousin,  you  surprise  me/^ 

Well,  them’s  my  sentiments,  notwithstanding.  He’s 
a fine,  spirited,  gallant-looking  young  fellow,  that  Barry  ; 
and  if  he  hate  and  despise  your  slow-going,  drivelling 
old  kings  and  queens,  by  thunder  I like  him  the  better 
for  telling  them  so  to  their  teeth ; and  if  he  loves  Mary 
Lee,  why  shouldn’t  he  try  to  catch  her  the  best  way  he 
can  ? Let  every  man  have  a fair  chance.” 

If  these  be  your  sentiments,  my  dear  cousin,”  said 
Hard  wrinkle,  ''they  are  very  different,  I must  confess, 
from  what  I had  expected  of  you.” 

"Well,  sir,  they  are  my  sentiments  precisely — real 
true  blue  Yankee  sentiments,  and  no  mistake.” 

" Well,  well,  I must  acknowledge  I was  deceived  in 
you,  cousin,  and  I’m  sorry  for  it.  But  we  must  postpone 
further  discussion  on  the  subject  for  the  present.  I see 
Rebecca  and  her  sisters  out  there  on  their  way  to  Bally- 
magahey,  and  must  speak  to  them  a word  or  two  of  cau- 
tion before  they  leave.  Pray  excuse  me,  Ephraim.” 

" Go  ahead,  go  ahead,”  replied  Weeks,  preparing  to 
light  another  cigar — "go  ahead,  and  don’t  mind  me  ; ” 
and  the  Yankee  was  left  alone,  at  last,  to  enjoy  the  com- 
fort of  a quiet  Havana. 


220 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 

Reflection  on  an  Irish  Churchyard.  — Miss  Rebecca  and 
her  Cousin  Weeks.  — Piety  and  Infldelity. 

Mr.  Weeks  left  his  room  soon  after  his  cousin, — it 
being  now  somewhat  advanced  in  the  forenoon,  — and 
with  a cigar  in  his  mouth,  descended  the  steps  at  the  hall 
door,  and  sauntered  out  to  breathe  the  fresh  air.  It  was 
a delightful  morning.  Every  thing  looked  cheerful  and 
pleasant.  The  new  mown  hay  lay  in  long  swaths  on  the 
lawn,  exhaling  its  perfume  under  the  warm  sun.  The 
mowers,  swart  with  toil,  were  slowly  sweeping  their 
scythes  through  the  ripe  grass,  and  moving  onwards, 
side  by  side,  with  measured  step  across  the  broad  field. 
Over  the  tops  of  the  trees  which  skirted  the  demesne  be- 
low, and  through  the  vistas  which  time  or  the  axe  had 
made,  appeared  patches  of  Mulroy  Bay,  shining  as  calm 
and  bright  as  a mirror.  On  its  southern  shore  a little 
white-washed  building,  showing  a gilded  cross  on  its 
gable,  stood  facing  the  sea,  and  round  about  among  the 
fern  and  hawthorns,  with  which  it  was  surrounded,  a 
number  of  white  headstones  peeped  out  here  and  there  to 
mark  it  for  a burial  place  of  the  dead.  This  was  Mass- 
mount,  where  our  foreign  friend  first  saw  Mary  Lee,  as 
she  knelt  at  the  altar.  It  was  a solitary  spot,  and  as 
pleasant  for  the  dead  to  rest  in  as  could  be  found  in  the 
whole  world.  No  house  within  a mile  of  it,  and  no  noise 
to  disturb  its  repose  but  the  twitter  of  the  swallow  about 
the  eaves  of  the  little  church,  or  the  gentle  wash  of  the 
waves  amongst  the  sea  shells  at  its  base.  And  if,  oh 
the  Sunday  morning,  the  silence  which  reigned  there 
through  the  week  was  broken,  it  only  seemed  to  make 
the  stillness  which  succeeded  the  more  solemn  and  pro- 
found. To  the  eastward  of  the  chapel,  and  surrounded 
by  a^elt  of  trees,  stood  the  modest  residence  of  Mr. 
Guirkie  — its  white  chimneys  just  visible  from  the  win- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


221 


dows  of  Crohan  House  ; and  trendin.g  away  to  the  west- 
ward lay  a long  tongue  of  meadow  land  called  Morass 
Ridge,  on  the  tip  or  extreme  point  of  which  rose  up  the 
still  majestic  ruins  of  Shannagh,  once  a stronghold  of 
the  far-famed  O^Dougherty  of  Innishowen.  Midway  be- 
tween these  two  prominent  features  in  the  landscape  ap- 
peared the  old  churchyard  of  Massmount,  with  its  little 
white  chapel  facing  the  sea. 

Mr.  Weeks,  touched  by  the  simple  beauty  of  the  scene, 
laid  himself  down  half  unconsciously  on  the  greensward 
to  enjoy  it  at  his  leisure. 

Dear  Irish  reader,  let  us  sit  down  beside  him  for  a mo- 
ment, and  view  the  picture  also.  There  is  nothing  in  it 
new  to  your  eyes  — nothing  you  haven^t  seen  a thou- 
sand times  before.  It  was  only  an  old  churchyard,  and 
old  churchyards,  in  Ireland,  you  know,  are  always  the 
same.  The  same  old  beaten  footpaths  through  the  rank 
grass  — the  same  old  hawthorn  trees  which  in  early  sum- 
mer shed  their  white  blossoms  on  the  green  graves  — 
the  same  old  ivy  walls  overshadowing  the  moss-covered 
tombs  of  the  monk  and  the  nun.  No,  there  was  nothing 
strange  or  new  in  the  picture  — on  the  contrary,  every 
thing  there  was  as  familiar  to  you  as  your  own  thoughts. 
But  tell  us,  dear  reader,  — now  that  we  can  converse 
quietly  together,  — does  not  the  sight  of  such  a spot 
sometimes  awaken  old  memories  ? Do  you  still  remem- 
ber the  place  in  the  old  ruins  where  the  prior’s  ghost 
was  seen  so  often  after  sunset,  or  the  fairy  tree  beside 
the  holy  well  which  no  axe  could  cut  down,  nor  human 
hand  break  a branch  off  with  impunity  ? But,  above  all, 
do  you  remember  the  shady  little  corner  where  the  dear 
ones  lie  buried  — the  grassy  mound  where  you  knelt  to 
drop  the  last  tear  on  bidding  farewell  to  the  land  you 
will  never  see  again  ? 0,  dear  reader,  do  your  thoughts 

ever  wander  back  to  these  blessed  scenes  of  your  youth  ? 
When  in  the  long  summer  evenings,  after  the  toil  of  the 
day  is  over,  you  sit  by  the  porch  of  the  stranger  enjoy- 
ing the  cool  night  air,  and  gazing  up  at  the  sparkling 
heavens  does  your  eye  ever  roam  in  search  of  that  star 
19* 


222 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


you  should  know  better  than  all  the  rest,  the  bright  one 
that  shines  on  your  own  native  isle  of  the  ocean  ? 
When  your  heart  feels  sad  under  a sense  of  its  isola- 
tion, — nay,  when  it  turns  with  disgust  from  the  treach- 
erous and  the  cold-hearted,  who,  having  wiled  you  to 
their  shores,  now  deny  you  even  a foothold  on  their 
soil  — does  memory  then  ever  carry  you  back  to  the  old 
homestead  among  the  hills,  where  in  bygone  years  you 
have  met  so  many  generous  souls  round  the  humble 
hearthstone  ? Alas,  alas  ! when  you  look  at  those  once 
stalwart  limbs  you  gave  your  adopted  country  as  a rec- 
ompense for  the  freedom  she  promised  you  — now  wast- 
ed away  in  her  service  — when  you  think  of  the  blood 
you  shed  in  her  battles,  the  prayers  you  offered  for  her 
prosperity,  the  pride  with  which  you  heard  her  name 
spoken  of  in  other  lands,  and  the  glorious  hopes  you 
once  entertained  of  seeing  her  the  greatest  and  the  best 
of  the  nations  of  the  earth  — and  yet  to  think,  0,  to 
think  that  the  only  return  she  makes  for  all  this  is  to 
hate  and  spurn  you,  — when  thoughts  like  these  weigh 
down  your  heart,  dear  reader,  do  you  not  sometimes 
long  to  see  the  old  land  again,  and  lay  your  shattered 
frame  down  to  rest  in  that  shady  corner  you  remember 
so  well  in  the  old  churchyard  ? 

But  they  tell  you  here  you  must  not  indulge  such 
thoughts  as  these.  On  the  contrary,  you  must  forget 
the  past ; you  must  renounce  your  love  for  the  country 
that  gave  you  birth ; you  must  sever  every  tie  that 
knits  you  to  her  bosom ; you  must  abjure  and  repudiate 
her  for  evermore  : the  songs  you  sang  and  the  stories  you 
told  so  often  by  the  light  of  the  peat  fire,  must  never  be 
sung  or  told  again  ; all  the  associations  of  home  and 
friends,  all  the  pleasant  recollections  of  your  boyhood,  all 
the  traditions  of  your  warriors  and  sainted  ancestors, 
must  be  blotted  from  your  memory,  as  so  many  treasons 
against  the  land  of  your  adoption.  Or,  if  you  do  venture 
to  speak  of  old  times  and  old  places  when  you  meet  with 
long  absent  friends  round  the  social  board,  it  must  be 
in  whispers  and  with  closed  doors,  lest  the  strangers 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND 


223 


should  hear  you  as  they  pass  by.  And  behold  the  return 
they  make  you  for  these  sacrifices  I’  They  give  ypu  free- 
dom ! What ! freedom  to  live  like  helots  in  the  land 
they  promised  to  make  your  own  — freedom  to  worship 
your  Creator  under  a roof  which  a godless  mob  may,  at 
any  moment,  fire  with  impunity  — freedom  to  shed  your 
blood  in  defence  of  a flag  that  would  gladly  wave  in  tri- 
umph over  the  extinction  of  your  race.  Speak,  exile  ! 
are  you  willing  to  renounce  your  fatherland  for  such  rec- 
ompense as  this?  0,  if  you  be,  may  no  ray  of  sunlight 
ever  visit  your  grave  — no  friend  or  relation,  wife  or 
child,  ever  shed  a tear  to  hallow  it.  If  youVe  fallen  so 
low  as  to  kiss  the  foot  that  spurns  you,  and  grown  so 
mean  as  to  fawn  upon  a nation  that  flings  you  from  her 
with  disgust,  then  go  and  live  the  degraded,  soulless 
thing  thou  art,  fit  only  to  batten  on  garbage  and  rot 
in  a potter’s  field.  Go  ! quit  this  place,  for  the  sight  of 
an  old  Irish  churchyard  has  no  charms  for  you. 

Mr.  Weeks  h^d  been  sitting  for  half  an  hour  or  more 
contemplating  the  scene  before  him,  when,  hearing  the 
sound  of  approaching  footsteps,  he  turned  to  see  who 
was  coming. 

It  was  Rebecca  Hardwrinkle,  accompanied  by  the  col- 
porteur and  two  of  her  younger  sisters,  on  their  way  to 
Ballymagahey. 

Well,  there,”  said  Weeks,  rising,  and  shaking  off  the 
chips  he  had  been  whittling  from  a withered  branch  that 
happened  to  lie  within  his  reach  — ''  there  ! I thought 
you’d  gone  long  ago.” 

‘"My  brother  detained  me,”  replied  Rebecca,  ^'to  se- 
lect some  tracts  from  a parcel  he  had  just  received  as  I 
was  leaving  the  house  ; and  seeing  you  here,  I passed 
this  way  to  offer  you  one  for  your  inspection.  It’s  on 
the  efficacy  of  prayer.” 

Humph!  I know  what  you’re  coming  at,  I guess; 
I haven’t  been  at  family  worship  this  morning.” 

Ah,  cousin,  were  it  only  once  you  absented  your- 
self, we  might  find  some  excuse,  but  to  be  absent  so 
often  — 0,  dear  ! ” 


224 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Vfell,  now,  look  here  ; I don^t  profess  to  be  much  of 
a Christian,  you  know,  and  consequently  you  can^t  ex- 
pect me  to  get  used  to  your  traces  right  straight  off/^ 
Well,  but  your  religious  sentiments  are  so  very 
shocking,  Ephraim,  that  I tremble  to  think  of  your  soul, 
and  the  end  which  awaits  it  if  you  turn  not  speedily  to  the 
Lord.  Eead  that  little  book,  however,  attentively,  and 
you  will  find  it  of  great  spiritual  advantage.  And  then, 
dear  cousin,  I shall  have  you  prayed  for  next  Sabbath/’ 
Me  prayed  for  ? ” 

Certainly.” 

Guess  not.” 

Why,  can  you  have  any  possible  objection  to  be 
prayed  for  by  the  God-fearing,  pious  servants  of  the 
Lord?” 

Well,  yes,  I rather  think  I have  — a slight  one.” 
How  very  strange  ! Did  you  only  once  feel  the  ben- 
efit a Christian  derives  from  the  prayers  of  the  elect — ” 

''Just  so  — but  I’m  kinder  green,  you  know,  in  that 
line.” 

" Brother  Eobert,  and  Deborah  there,  and  Hannah,  and 
all  of  us,  have  been  prayed  for  so  often,  and  have  always 
felt  our  strength  renewed  in  so  wonderful  a manner  I ” 

" All  right.  But  you  see,  I feel  considerable  strong 
as  it  is,  and  ain’t  disposed  to  trouble  you  just  at  present. 
Say,  cousin,  whereabouts  here  is  the  priest’s  house? 
Ain’t  that  it  over  there  west  of  the  pond  ? I want  to 
call  on  the  old  feller  this  morning.” 

"Yes,  that’s  his  house;  but  what  can  your  business 
be  with  Mm,  Ephraim?” 

"Well,  not  much,  if  any;  should  like  to  ask  him  a ques- 
tion or  two  — that’s  all.” 

" Are  you  not  afraid?  ” 

" Afraid  ! — afraid  of  what  ?” 

" To  converse  with  him  in  the  weak  state  of  your  soul.” 

" Why,  what  in  creation  do  you  take  me  for  ? ” 

" Don’t  be  offended,  cousin.  I speak  to  you  for  your 
own  good.” 

" My  own  good  ! I ain’t  a fool  — am  I ? ” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


225 


No,  no,  dear  Ephraim,  but  you  know  you^re  weak.’’ 

Weak  ! shoh  ! you  don’t  say  so.” 

I speak  the  truth  ; you  will  never  be  able  to  resist 
him.  He’s  a most  insinuating,  dangerous  man.” 

The  old  priest  ? ” 

Yes.  You’ve  heard,  I suppose,  how  he  converted 
the  tutor  at  the  old  parsonage  ? ” 

No  — can’t  say  I have.” 

''And  poor  Kate  Petersham,  too,”  put  in  Deborah; 
" she’s  on  the  very  verge  of  the  gulf.” 

" There  ! by  the  way,  I had  almost  forgotten  it.  I 
must  call  on  these  Petershams  right  off.  What  sorter 
girl,  though,  is  this  Kate  you  speak  of  ? Kinder  crazy  — 
ain’t  she  ? ” 

" A little  weak,”  responded  Kebecca,  "but  still  a 
good  natured  soul.  Some  of  her  neighbors,  poor  thing, 
have  lately  been  telling  idle  stories  about  her ; but  I’m 
sure  they’re  all  false.  For  my  part,  I can’t  believe  them. 
And  I’m  sure  it’s  nothing  to  me  if  she  turned  Catholic 
to-morrow.  Only  people  will  talk,  you  know,  Ephraim.” 

" Well  — nothing  prejudicial  to  her  honor,  I presume.” 

Rebecca  glanced  significantly  at  her  sister  and  Mr. 
Sweetsoul,  but  said  nothing  in  reply. 

" Excuse  me,”  said  Weeks ; " I shouldn’t  have  put 
that  question,  perhaps,  but  the  fact  is,  the  young  lady 
has  invited  me  to  Castle  Gregory,  and  I can’t  very  well 
refuse ; besides,  her  brother.  Captain  Petersham,  is  anx- 
ious to  have  me  call  on  him.” 

" Did  the  lady  invite  you  herself?  ” inquired  Rebecca. 

" Why,  certainly.  I had  a note  from  her  a week  ago 
to  that  effect.” 

" Written  by  herself?  ” 

" Well,  her  name  was  signed  to  it  — Kate  Petersham.” 

Rebecca  again  glanced  at  her  companions,  and  tried  to 
blush  and  look  mortified. 

" Well,  it  did  seem  kinder  strange,  I allow,”  said 
Weeks;  ''but  not  being  well  posted  up  in  the  customs 
of  the  country,  I didn’t  know  but  it  was  all  right.” 

' Don’t  go,  Ephraim,”  said  Rebecca,  laying  her  black- 


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MARY  LEE,  OR 


gloved  hand  affectionately  on  his  arm.  Don^t  go  ; take 
my  advice. 

She  can^t  hurt  me,  I reckon  — can  she  ? 

''  No,  dear  Ephraim  ; she  can’t  hurt  your  body,  but  she 
might  your  soul.  You’re  weak,  you  know  — very  weak 
indeed,  and  she  is  very  captivating  both  in  person  and 
conversation.  I don’t  like,  my  dear  cousin,  these  visits 
to  Miss  Petersham  and  the  Catholic  priest,  especially 
without  some  one  to  protect  you  against  the  dangerous 
influence  of  their  society.” 

You  don’t,  eh  ? ” 

No,  dear  cousin.” 

Look  at  me,  Miss  Hardwrinkle,”  said  Weeks,  thrust- 
ing his  hands  down  into  his  pockets,  and  hitching  up  his 
shoulders. 

I see.” 

Is  there  any  thing  remarkably  green  about  me  ? ” 

Green  ! no.” 

Ain’t  I a Yankee,  born  and  bred,  eh  ? ” 

Certainly.” 

And  do  you  really  believe  I don’t  know  nothing  — 
that  I can’t  take  care  of  myself  among  a parcel  of  Irish. 
What  sort  of  folks  d’ye  think  we  Yankees  are,  any 
how  ? ” 

Don’t  grow  vexed  with  me,  dear  Ephraim  ; don’t 
grow  vexed.  I would  not  offend  you  for  the  world.  I 
only  speak  for  your  own  good,  dear  cousin.  Mr.  Sweet- 
soul  here  knows  how  often  I have  wept  over  your  weak- 
ness, and  how  incessantly  I have  prayed  that  the  light  of 
truth  might  dispel  the  darkness  — ” 

Stop  ! stop  I — thunder  I Hain’t  I been  listening  to 
all  that  long  talk  till  I’m  enamost  crazy?” 

0,  dear,  he  has  grown  so  nervous  of  late,  Mr.  Sweet- 
soul,”  said  Rebecca,  wringing  her  hands,  and  turning  to 
the  colporteur,  that  he  cannot  bear  a single  word  of 
advice.” 

Nervous  ! and  where’s  the  wonder,  with  seven  sisters 
of  you  talking  religion  at  me  from  morning  till  night. 
Why,  I can’t  smoke  a cigar,  by  crackie,  but  I’m  taken  to 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


227 


task  for  it.  It^s  too  great  an  indulgence,  or  it^s  too 
worldly-looking,  or  it^s  one  darned  thing  or  other. 

But  listen  to  me,  dear  Ephraim ; don^t  you  feel  that 
we  have  your  spiritual  welfare  at  heart  ? and  donH  you 
know,  when  we  speak  to  you  of  religion,  it  is  only  because 
we  love  you  too  well  to  see  you  perish  before  our  eyes  ? 
0,  if  the  sweet  dew  of  religion  only  once  touched  — 

The  dew  of  religion!  there!  That^s  the  talk — go 
ahead,  cousin  ; I shan’t  say  another  word  on  the  sub- 
ject— go  ahead.  I’ll  stand  it  out,  I guess,  if  any  man 
can ; ” and  he  picked  up  the  branch  he  had  just  been 
whittling,  and  set  to  it  again,  as  vigorously  as  if  he  had 
been  whittling  for  a wager.  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks  was 
evidently  excited,  but  tried  very  hard  to  keep  cool. 

And  now,  Mr.  Sweetfeoul,  you  may  judge  whether 
we  have  reason  or  not  to  fear  for  our  dear  cousin,”  said 
Rebecca,  again  turning  to  the  colporteur.  Just  look  at 
this  trinket.  Here  is  a pair  of  popish  rosary  beads,  which 
the  chambermaid  found  on  the  floor  of  Mr.  Weeks’s  bed- 
room the  morning  after  he  first  entered  the  lighthouse 
lodge  at  Araheera ; ” and  the  speaker  held  them  up  be- 
tween her  Anger  and  thumb  for  inspection. 

''  Dreadful  ! ” 

''  This  was  his  first  lesson  from  the  Romish  light- 
keeper  and  his  pretty  daughter.” 

I have  already  explained  to  you  how  I came  by  these 
beads,”  said  Weeks.  I picked  them  up  where  they 
had  fallen  from  an  old  Bible  at  the  lighthouse,  and  un- 
thinkingly put  them  in  my  pocket.  But  no  matter  now  ; 
fire  away.” 

Don’t  grow  angry,  Ephraim.” 

''  I ain’t  angry.” 

''  I merely  call  your  attention  to  the  beads  to  show 
you  the  danger  you  have  to  guard  against  in  forming 
Catholic  associations.  Is  there  any  thing  in  that  to  make 
you  angry  ? ” 

I ain’t  angry,  I tell  you ; not  a mite.” 

You  are  angry.  I see  it  in  your  countenance,  Ephra- 
im. 0,  if  you  only  experienced  religion  for  one  little 


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MARY  LEE,  OR 


week,  how  easily  you  could  repress  this  irritability  ! 
There,  now ! see  how  you  cut  up  that  stick  so  pettishly. 
Just  see  how  nervous  you  are.^^ 

I tell  you  I ainH  nervous,  cried  Weeks,  at  the  top 
of  his  voice. 

Well  — so  excited.^^ 

I ain^t  excited. 

Why,  dear  me,  Mr.  Sweetsoul,  only  look  at  him.^^ 

**  There  ! broke  out  Weeks  at  length,  losing  his  tem- 
per altogether,  and  flinging  away  both  knife  and  branch ; 
''there!  by  thunder,  if  this  ain^t  the  most  inhuman 
treatment  ever  man  suffered.^' 

" Stay,  Ephraim,  stay,  cousin  ; do,  for  one  moment,^^ 
entreated  Rebecca,  endeavoring  to  lay  hold  of  his  arm. 

" Not  a darned  second, ht  cried,  buttoning  his  coat 
and  hurrying  oflf,  full  of  indignation  at  the  idea  of  being 
treated  so  like  a child  or  a fool.  " By  gracious  thunder,^^ 
he  added,  halting  for  an  instant  on  his  step  and  looking 
back,  "you  ought  to  turn  to  at  once  and  spoon-feed  me.^^ 


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229 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

Weeks  visits  Mrs,  Motherly.  — A Conversation  on  Slavery. 

— Weeks  seems  rather  disagreeably  surprised  to  meet  an 

old  Acquaintance  in  Uncle  Jerry^s  Negro. 

Mr.  Weeks,  on  parting  with  his  lady  cousins,  (which 
he  did  rather  abruptly,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  last  chap- 
ter,) returned  to  Crohan  House,  and  lighting  another 
cigar,  mounted  the  sober  animal  he  generally  selected  for 
a morning^s  ride,  and  set  out  for  Father  Brennan^s. 
When  he  arrived  at  the  reverend  gentleman’s  residence, 
he  felt  somewhat  disappointed  to  learn  from  the  servant 
that  his  master  had  gone  some  five  or  six  miles  on  a sick 
call,  and  could  not  possibly  return  till  late  in  the  evening. 
Resolving,  however,  to  have  an  interview  with  the  good 
priest  as  soon  as  possible,  he  drew  a card  from  the  richly- 
carved  case  he  always  had  about  him,  and  having  written 
a request  to  that  efiect  on  the  back  of  it  with  his  pencil, 
handed  it  to  the  servant,  and  then  turned  his  horse’s  head 
in  the  direction  of  Greenmount  Cottage. 

Mrs.  Motherly  was  sitting  on  the  steps  of  the  hall 
door,  knitting  her  stocking,  and  looking  quite  happy  as 
she  plied  her  needles.  The  good  woman  was  dressed,  as 
usual,  in  her  large,  well-frilled  cap  and  white  apron,  with 
her  bunch  of  keys  hanging  by  her  side,  as  much  perhaps 
for  show  as  convenience.  On  the  grass  at  her  feet  a 
gray  cat  lay  stretched  in  the  sun,  with  half  a dozen  kit- 
tens playing  about  her  on  the  green. 

''Good  afternoon,  Mrs.  Motherly;  how  do?”  said 
Weeks.  " Mr.  Guirkie  at  home  ? ” 

" Your  sarvint,  sir,”  replied  the  matron,  rising  and  run- 
ning her  needles  into  the  stocking,  after  she  had  waited 
to  count  the  stitches.  " Mr.  Guirkie’s  not  in,  sir.” 

"Ain’t?” 

"No,  sir;  he  left  here  about  an  hour  ago  for  Rath- 
mullen.” 


20 


230 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Eathmullen  — let  me  see  — that^s  the  place  he  visits 
so  often  ? 

Yes,  sir/^ 

Goes  there  every  week  — don^t  he  ? 

‘‘  Every  Thursday,  sir/^ 

On  business,  I presume/^ 

No,  sir/^ 

Got  relatives  there,  perhaps/^ 

No,  sir;  he  has  no  relatives  living,  I believe.  Peo- 
ple's plazed  to  say,  though,  he^s  often  seen  sittin  on  a 
tombstone  there  in  the  ould  graveyard. 

Well,  must  be  some  friend,  I guess. 

Why,  if  the  gentleman  was  a native  o’  this  part  o^ 
.the  country,  it  might,^^  responded  Mrs.  Motherly,  but 
he^s  not ; he  was  born  in  Cork.^^ 

Does  he  never  speak  to  you  of  these  visits,  Mrs. 
Motherly  ? ” 

Niver,  sir.^’ 

You  don^t  say  so  ! IPs  odd  — ain^t  it  ? ” 

0,  it^s  just  of  a piece  with  the  rest  of  his  doings,’^ 
replied  the  good  woman,  opening,  as  usual,  her  budget 
of  grievances.  He  niver  thinks  of  telling  me  any  thing, 
of  coorse  ; why  should  he  ? I^m  nothing  but  a sarvint, 
ye  know.  Fm  only  here  to  do  the  work,  slavin  and 
sludgin  from  mornin  till  night,  strivin  to  plaze  him  and 
humor  him,  till  my  hearths  almost  broke;  and  ail  the 
thanks  I get  is  mighty  easy  told,  Mr.  Weeks. 

Don’t  doubt  it.  He’s  a very  odd  kinder  man  in  his 
ways  — that’s  a fact.” 

You  may  well  say  it,  sir.  He’s  the  provokinest 
man  ever  drew  breath.  But  won’t  you  light  and  come 
in,  sir  ? ” 

Well,  guess  I shall,  come  to  think  of  it.  Say,  can’t 
I write  a note  here,  and  leave  it  for  Mr.  Guirkie  ? ” 

Sartintly,  sir  ; come  in  ; there’s  paper  there,  and  pens 
plenty  in  the  parlor.  As  for  the  cratur  on  the  sofa,  he’ll 
not  disturb  you  in  the  lasfe.” 

''  Hilloa  ! who  the  thunder  is  this  ? ” exclaimed  Weeks, 
as  he  entered  the  parlor,  and  beheld  the  African  stretched 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


231 


at  his  full  length  on  the  sofa,  apparently  fast  asleep. 

A nigger  — ain^t  he  ? 

Yes,  sir  ; that's  our  new  boarder,"  primly  replied 
Mrs.  Motherly. 

But  how  in  creation  did  he  come  here  ? " 

Mr.  Guirkie,  sir,  carried  the  gentleman  home  with 
him  from  the  wreck." 

Ah,  that's  it.  I have  heard  of  a wreck  lately  some- 
where here  in  the  neighborhood." 

He's  a very  respectable  boarder  for  a lone  woman  — 
isn't  he,  Mr.  Weeks  ? " 

Well,  don't  know  exactly  ; that's  all  a matter  of  taste. 
Some  folks  like  niggers  very  much.  There's  our  New 
England  ladies,  for  instance ; they're  terrible  kind  to 
niggers.  I'd  venture  to  say,  if  this  here  chap  happened 
to  be  cast  ashore  any  where  along  the  eastern  seaboard, 
they'd  gather  round  and  clothe  and  feast  him  like  a 
prince,  before  he  got  well  out  of  water." 

You're  jokin,  Mr.  Weeks." 

'^No,  mam,  I ain't  jokin  a mite." 

And  ye  tell  me  they're  so  fond  of  them  as  all 
that?" 

Fond  ? yes  — guess  they  are  fond  — they're  the 
most  almighty  fond  creatures  in  that  way  in  all  cre- 
ation." 

Bedad,  then,  Mr.  Weeks,  I don't  envy  their  taste." 

Well,  it  ain't  just  that,  either,  for  the  fact  is,  they 
despise  niggers  as  much  as  any  people  in  the  world. 
But  it's  a sorter  philanthropy,  you  know,  that's  made 
up  of  a half  sentimental,  half  benevolent  kinder  squeam- 
ishness, with  a slight  dash  of  the  religious  in  it,  by  way 
of  seasoning." 

**  Yes,  sir,  of  coorse." 

You  understand  me  ? " 

0,  parfectly,  sir.  They  must  be  mighty  charitable 
intirely,  God  bless  them." 

Very  charitable  indeed.  That  is,  I mean  to  the 
slave  portion  of  the  race.  Sometimes  their  philanthropy 


232 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


impels  them  even  to  pawn  their  jewels  to  buy  a slave 
from  bondage — it^s  a fact/^ 

See  that  now  ! Isn^t  it  wondherful  to  think  of  it  ? 
And  still  I often  heard  Mr.  Guirkie  say  the  craturs  out 
there  in  America  warn^t  so  badly  off  after  all.” 

Well,  no  — guess  they^re  pretty  well  off  for  clothes 
and  food,  and  all  that  sorter  thing.  But  they  hain^t 
got  their  liberty,  you  know ; and  no  American  born 
ought  to  see  a human  in  slavery  and  not  try  to  liber- 
ate him.” 

True  for  you,  Mr.  Weeks  ; you  speak  like  a Chris- 
tian, so  you  do.  Dear  knows  it’s  a poor  sight  to  see 
God’s  craturs  bought  and  sould,  as  they  say  they  are 
over  there,  just  for  all  the  world  like  a cow  or  a horse  — 
it’s  onnatural.” 

''  It’s  shocking  ! ” 

And  still,”  said  Mrs.  Motherly,  they  tell  us  the 
poor  Irish  there  isn’t  trated  much  better  than  slaves.” 

The  Irish  ! My  dear  woman,  don’t  believe  a word 
of  it.” 

Why,  I have  a letther  in  my  pocket  here,  from  a 
niece  of  mine,  that’s  livin  in  a place  called  Boston,  and 
she  tells  me  it’s  tarrible  to  think  of  what  they  suffer. 
There  it  is,”  continued  .the  good  woman,  opening  it,  and 
pointing  to  a particular  passage,  which  ran  as  follows  : 

' We’re  thrated  here  like  slaves,  and  have  more  to 
suffer  from  the  Yankees,  specially  in  regard  to  our  re- 
ligion, than  ever  we  had  at  home  from  the  bloody,  par- 
secutin  English.’  It’s  a wonder  they’re  not  ashamed 
to  purfess  so  much  tinderness  for  the  slaves,  and  trate 
the  poor  Irish  so  manely  as  that,”  said  Mrs.  Moth- 
erly. 

My  dear  woman,  you  don’t  understand  the  case. 
It’s  only  the  lower  orders  of  our  people  do  so.” 

And  why  don’t  the  upper  orders  make  them  behave 
better  ? ” 

Can’t  do  it.  It’s  a free  country.” 

0,  bad  luck  to  such  freedom  as  that.  I wudn’t  give 
ye  a brass  button  for  it.  There’s  my  niece,  as  dacent  a 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


233 


reared  little  g“irl  as  ever  crossed  the  water  — 1^11  say  that 
much  for  her,  though,  she  is  my  niece  — and  her  mistress, 
who's  nothin  after  all  but  a shopkeeper's  wife  — may  be 
not  as  dacent  a father  and  mother's  child  either,  — and 
the  best  word  she  has  in  her  cheek  for  the  cratur  is  the 
‘ Paddy  girl,'  and  the  ' Papist,'  and  the  ' ignorant 
booby,'  and  ^ go  to  the  old  priest — he'll  forgive  you 
your  sins  for  a ninepence.'  What  kind  of  talk  is 
that,  Mr.  Weeks  ? " continued  the  good  woman,  rolling 
up  her  arms  in  her  apron,  and  looking  at  him. 

Well,  that  ain't  right,  I allow." 

Right  — bedad,  if  the  girls  would  do  as  I would, 
they'd  slap  them  in  the  face.  And  that’s  what  I told 
Bridget  in  my  last  letter.  Humph  ! pretty  thing,  in- 
deed ! because  they  pay  their  girls  six  or  seven  shillings 
a week,  they  must  have  a right  to  insult  and  abuse  them 
into  the  bargain." 

Very  few  think  so,  Mrs.  Motherly,  very  few  indeed. 
I know  many,  very  many  families  in  New  England,  who 
respect  their  help  very  much,  and  are  as  kind  to  them  as 
if  they  were  relatives  of  the  family." 

To  be  sure  you  do,  sir,  and  so  Bridget  says  too,  in 
her  letter  here  ; but  they're  respectable  people.  I mane 
yer  upsettin,  half  and  between  fine  ladies,  that  think 
they  ought  to  take  airs  on  themselves  as  soon  as  they 
can  afibrd  to  hire  a girl  to  do  their  work  — that's  the 
kind  I mane." 

‘'Just  so;  that's  all  right  enough  — but  still,  Mrs. 
Motherly,  some  of  your  girls  are  pretty  spunky." 

“ I don't  doubt  it,  sir,  in  the  laste,  and  may  be  there's 
plenty  of  them  desarves  to  be  turned  out  of  doors  too 
for  their  impudence.  But  can't  all  that  be  done  with- 
out casting  up  their  religion  and  their  priest  to  them  ? 
Ah,  that's  mane,  sir,  mane  as  dirt,  to  insult  a poor  girl 
for  her  religion." 

“ Well  — as  I hain't  got  many  minutes  to  spare  now, 
Mrs.  Motherly,  let  us  put  off  this  subject  till  another 
time.  So  I'll  just  sit  down  here,  if  you  hain't  no  objec- 
20* 


234 


MAEY  LEE,  OB 


tion,  and  write  a note  for  Mr.  Guirkie,  which  you'll 
please  hand  him  as  soon  as  he  returns. 

Sartintly,  Mr.  Weeks,  with  the  greatest  pleasure  in 
life  ; I hope  Sambo  here  won^t  disturb  you,  sir.^^ 

Not  in  the  least.  He^s  asleep  — airiH  he  ? 

So  it  seems  ; and  still  it^s  quare  to  see  him  asleep  at 
this  hour.  He  was  sittin  up  a minute  or  two  before  ye 
came.  I’ll  see.  Sambo  ! Sambo ! wake  up.  There’s 
not  a stir  in  him,  sir.” 

Don’t  mind  him,  Mrs.  Motherly,”  said  Weeks.,  dip- 
ping the  pen  in  the  ink.  Don’t  mind  him.” 

Well,  I niver  saw  him  asleep  but  he  snored  strong 
enough  to  draw  the  sides  of  the  house  together.  And 
see  now,  he  hardly  seems  to  breathe.  Sambo,”  she 
repeated,  shaking  him  by  the  arm,  — Sambo,  wake 
up  ; here’s  the  gentleman  you  were  asking  about  the 
other  day.” 

About  me  ? ” 

Yes,  sir ; he  started  just  as  if  he’d  been  shot,  when 
he  saw  you  pass  the  window  last  week.” 

Last  week  — why,  I don’t  remember  to  have  seen  or 
heard  any  thing  of  him.  I didn’t  know  you’d  got  a 
nigger  here  till  this  minute.” 

Well,  he  saw  you,  sir,  any  way,  and  looked  as 
frightened  as  if  you  came  to  drag  him  to  the  gal- 
lows.” 

Indeed  ! Wake  him  up,  and  let’s  see  what  he’s 
like.” 

Sambo  ! hilloa.  Sambo  ! ” cried  Mrs.  Motherly,  again 
shaking  him  roughly  by  the  arm  ; look  up,  man,  and 
speak  to  us  — he  won’t  though,  not  a budge  he’ll  do. 
Bedad,  Mr.  Weeks,  may  be  he’s  dyin.” 

Not  he  — the  fellow’s  coming  possum  over  us,  that’s 
all  ; but  hold  on  a bit ; I’ll  make  him  speak  — bet  a 
fourpence  ; ” and  striking  the  African  a smart  rap  on 
the  shin  with  his  knuckles,  the  sleeper  started  up  in  an 
instant  to  a sitting  posture,  and  bellowed  as  if  he  had 
been  stabbed  with  a bayonet. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


235 


Shut  up/^  said  Weeks  ; you  ain^t  murdered  — are 
you  ? 

0,  Massa  Charles,  Massa  Charles/^  cried  the  Afri- 
can, rubbing  the  wounded  part  with  his  hand,  ''you 
know  him  place  strike  poor  nigger/^ 

" You  see  that,’^  observed  Mrs.  Motherly  ; "he  seems 
to  know  you,  sir.’^ 

"Massa  Charles  — why,  who  the  thunder  are  you 
— eh  ? 

"0,  golly,  there,  Massa  Charles  not  know  Sambo  I 

" What  Sambo  ? 

" Why,  Jubal  Sambo  — gosh  ! that  very  sprizin  ; many 
time  massa  licked  Sambo  on  old  plantation.'^ 

" Where  ? " demanded  Weeks,  his  words  growing  few 
and  faint  as  the  negro's  voice  and  features  grew  more 
and  more  familiar  to  him. 

Where ! yah,  yah ! no  remember  Moose  Creek, 
old  Virginny  ? Massa  Charles  look  him  my  back, 
him  know  Sambo  better ; ebery  one  knows  him  own 
marks." 

" Moose  Creek  ! — good  Heavens  ! there  ! " exclaimed 
Weeks  ; " well,  by  crackle,  if  that  ain't  the  most  unex- 
pected — " 

" Yah,  yah  ! " chuckled  the  African,  now  that  his  shin 
no  longer  troubled  him.  " Massa  no  spect  see  Sambo  so 
far  from  home.  Sambo  no  fraid  massa  now.  Sambo  free 
nigger  — yah,  yah  ! " 

" Mrs.  Motherly,"  said  Weeks,  turning  to  the  house- 
keeper, who  stood  looking  on  apparently  much  inter- 
ested in  the  conversation,  " may  I beg  you  to  quit 
the  room  for  a moment  ? I should  like  to  say  a few 
words  to  this  poor  fellow  — seems  to  me  I have  seen 
him  before." 

" Indeed  you  have,  sir.  I'll  warrant  that,"  said  Mrs. 
Motherly,  looking  sharply  at  Weeks,  now  as  pale  as  a 
sheet  of  paper.  "But  sure  if  you  have  any  thing  in 
private  to  say  to  him.  I'll  not  prevent  you.  Strange  how 
people  meets  sometimes  so  far  from  home,  and  when 


236 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


they  laste  expect  it;  too.  Ha,  ha ! isnH  it  quare,  Mr. 
Weeks  ? 

Very  much  so  indeed  — but  you’ll  excuse  me,  Mrs. 
Motherly.” 

Sartintly,  sir  ; I was  only  just  going  to  tell  ye  how 
Mr.  Guirkie,  thravellin  in  America,  once  met  with  an 
ould  rival  of  his  in  the  same  way,  that  he  thought  was 
dead  twenty  years  before.  It  was  the  oddest  thing  in 
the  world.  Him  and  Mr.  Guirkie,  it  seems,  in  their 
young  days,  were  both  courtin  the  same  young  lady  ; 
but,  lo  and  behold  you,  she  went  off  at  last  with  the 
other  gentleman  ; and  then  Mr.  Guirkie  made  a vow 
never  to  marry,  seein  he  had  no  heart  to  give  away, 
for  he  loved  the  girl  beyond  all  raison  ; and  indeed 
to  this  very  day  he  carries  her  picthur  about  him  wher- 
ever he  goes.  Well,  he  went  across  the  seas  to  thravel, 
thinkin  to  forget  her  among  the  strangers  ; and  what  would 
ye  have  of  it,  but  after  leaving  the  West  Indies,  and 
landin  in  the  States  of  America,  the  first  face  he  knew 
was  that  of  his  ould  rival.  There  he  was  standing  on 
the  quay  right  before  him  as  he  stepped  ashore  from  the 
vessel.” 

</Yery  strange,  indeed,”  assented  Weeks- — very 
remarkable  circumstance  — exceedingly  so.  But  won’t 
you  allow  me,  Mrs.  Motherly  — ? ” 

Sartintly,  Mr.  Weeks — sartintly,  sir.” 

Gosh,  dat  berry  queer,”  muttered  Sambo. 

What  ? ” 

Why,  Massa  Guirkie  meetin  him  old  ribal  on  de 
wharf.” 

How  so,  Sambo  ? ” 

''Well,  old  Massa  Talbot  just  say  same  ting.  Moder 
told  me  all  about  it  long  time  ago.  Massa  walk  on  de 
wharf,  and  dere  comes  him  old  ribal  right  out  of  de 
ship  afore  him  berry  eyes,  de  man  he  tink  was  dead  and 
buried.  De  sight  almost  knock  him  blind.” 

" Any  thing  else  I can  do  for  you,  Mr.  Weeks  ? ” 

" Nothing,  Mrs.  Motherly,  nothing  at  present.” 

" Well,  then,  I’ll  leave  you  together,  to  settle  your 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


237 


own  affairs ; only  I would  advise  you,  Mr.  Weeks,  before 
I go,  to  caution  this  foolish  fellow  not  to  call  you  Massa 
Charles  any  more,  for  the  people  of  this  wicked  world 
are  always  watchin  and  peepin  into  other  people’s  busi- 
ness, ye  know,  and  ten  chances  to  one  but  they’d  say 
you  weren’t  the  man  you  portended  to  be,  at  all,  at  all.” 
So  saying,  Mrs.  Motherly  made  her  usual  courtesy  at  the 
door,  and  closed  it  behind  her. 


238 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Mr,  Weeks  treats  himself  to  a Ride  on  a Rathlin  Pony.  — 

Rs  Consequences.  — Kate  takes  him  with  her  to  Castle 

Gregory. 

During  Mr.  Weeks’s  long  and  secret  conference  with 
the  negro,  (for  Mrs.  Motherly  was  carefully  excluded 
from  the  room,)  Hardwrinkle  still  remained  closeted  with 
the  officer  of  constabulary  at  Crohan  House,  devising 
plans  for  the  immediate  committal  of  Randall  Barry  to 
Lifford  jail.  A difficulty,  however,  presented  itself, 
which  Hardwrinkle  had  entirely  overlooked  in  his  zeal 
for  the  safety  of  the  state  — namely,  the  presence  of 
Captain  Petersham,  of  Castle  Gregory,  who,  as  senior 
magistrate  of  the  barony,  was  very  much  in  the  habit  of 
taking  such  cases  into  his  own  hands,  and  disposing  of 
them  according  to  his  own  peculiar  views  of  the  law 
thereunto  made  and  provided.  Hardwrinkle,  it  appears, 
in  order  to  avoid  unnecessary  delay,  was  for  having  the 
prisoner  brought  before  himself,  and  committed  forth- 
with ; but  the  officer  demurred  on  the  ground  that  the 
captain  had  already,  in  anticipation  of  Barry’s  arrest, 
given  strict  orders  to  have  the  young  man  brought  before 
himy  and  no  other.  Hardwrinkle  denied  Captain  Peters- 
ham’s right  to  issue  such  orders,  inasmuch  as  the  crime 
charged  against  Barry  was  a capital  offence,  requiring 
prompt  and  summary  action  by  the  nearest  of  her  ma- 
jesty’s justices  of  the  peace,  without  distinction  of  rank. 
Furthermore,  he  contended  that  Captain  Petersham,  from 
his  well-known  disaffection  to  the  government,  and  his 
notorious  opposition  to  its  measures  for  the  ameliora- 
tion ” of  Ireland,  was  neither  a fit  or  proper  person  to 
try  the  case  at  all.  Still  more, — he  assured  the  officer 
that  the  captain’s  anxiety  to  take  Barry  into  his  own 
hands  was  but  the  consequence  of  a secret  determination 
on  his  part  to  let  the  young  rebel  escape,  if  he  could 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


239 


possibly  do  so  ; and,  therefore,  to  trust  such  a man  with 
the  case  was  virtually  to  defeat  the  law,  and  frustrate  the 
designs  of  the  government. 

These  remonstrances,  however,  seemed  to  produce  but 
little  effect  on  the  police  officer,  who  still  persisted  in  his 
determination  of  bringing  the  prisoner  before  the  senior 
magistrate  as  in  duty  bound  — adding,  by  way  of  make- 
weight, that  he  valued  his  life  too  highly  to  risk  it  by  an 
act  of  premeditated  disobedience  to  the  orders  of  such  a 
madman  and  fire-eater  as  Captain  Tom  Petersham,  of 
Castle  Gregory. 

At  length,  after  various  plans  and  schemes  had  been 
proposed  and  rejected,  it  was  finally  agreed  that  nothing 
could  be  done  for  the  present,  but  that  early  on  the  follow- 
ing morning  Hardwrinkle  should  despatch  his  servants 
post-haste  to  certain  magistrates  of  the  neighborhood,  on 
whose  loyalty  he  could  depend,  requesting  their  presence 
next  day  on  the  Petit  Sessions  bench,  in  order  to  neutral- 
ize any  efforts  that  might  be  made  by  Captain  Petersham 
to  free  the  prisoner.  In  the  mean  time  the  barracks 
should  be  well  guarded,  particularly  through  the  night, 
and  every  possible  precaution  taken  against  attempts  at 
rescue  by  the  friends  and  abettors  of  the  young  outlaw. 
With  this  understanding,  the  two  zealous  defenders  of 
church  and  state  separated,  each  congratulating  the  other 
on  having  secured  at  last  the  person  of  so  dangerous  and 
malignant  a traitor  as  Randall  Barry. 

Whilst  the  above  consultation  was  going  on,  Weeks  . 
had  quite  recovered  from  his  consternation  on  recogniz- 
ing the  negro  in  Mr.  Guirkie^s  parlor,  and,  after  leaving 
his  message  with  Mrs.  Motherly,  was  now  proceeding  on 
his  way  to  Castle  Gregory,  looking  as  grave  and  composed 
as  if  nothing  had  occurred  to  disturb  his  equanimity. 

The  animal  on  which  he  rode  — we  have  said  already 
— was  by  no  means  remarkable  either  for  his  beauty  of 
shape  or  swiftness  of  foot,  and  so  low  withal  that  his 
rider^s  boots  almost  touched  the  ground  as  he  jogged 
along.  Still,  though  a mere  pony,  he  was  remarkably 
thick  set  and  stout,  and  looked  strong  enough  to  carry  a 


240 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


much  heavier  load,  if  he  only  made  up  his  mind  to  do  it. 
We  add  this  saving  clause,  because  the  little  fellow 
happened  to  belong  to  the  species  of  horse  called  the 
^^Eahery  or  Kathlin  breed,^^  well  known  in  the  north  of 
Ireland,  and  famous  not  only  for  its  great  strength,  but 
its  inveterate  habit  of  resisting  all  attempts  at  coercion  ; 
so  that  as  wrong-headed  as  a Rahery  had  long  become 
a common  expression  throughout  the  province. 

Mr.  Weeks,  when  he  first  took  a notion  to  try  the 
horse  for  a morning’s  ride,  was  cautioned  by  his  Orphan 
friends  not  to  trust  him  too  far.  Rebecca,  especially,  took 
great  pains  to  acquaint  her  good  cousin  with  the  pony’s 
bad  habits,  and  to  put  him  on  his  guard.  But  Weeks, 
confident  of  his  superior  horsemanship,  and  anxious  to 
verify  the  truth  of  his  favorite  saying,  "'that  no  living 
critter  could  come  it  over  him,”  would  listen  neither  to 
advice  nor  caution. 

The  little  Rahery,  as  we  have  before  observed,  being 
neither  fast  nor  handsome,  and  having  little  therefore  to 
feel  proud  of,  contented  himself  with  trotting  along  in 
his  own  quiet  way,  without  the  least  pretension  in  the 
world,  and  caring  just  as  little  for  the  opinions  of  his 
neighbors  as  he  did  for  the  spurs  of  his  rider. 

Notwithstanding  all  our  hero’s  boasting,  however,  it 
was  quite  evident  he  knew  little  how  to  govern  the  horse 
he  rode  just  then,  whatever  he  might  have  been  able  to 
do  at  home  in  New  England ; for  he  kept  tugging  at  the 
reins  and  pricking  the  creature’s  sides  with  a constant 
uniform  motion,  as  if  the  double  movement  of  hand  and 
heel  constituted  an  essential  part  of  the  exercise. 
Whether  the  gruff,  bull-headed  little  brute  felt  he  had 
a greenhorn  on  his  back,  or  whether  he  resolved  to 
hold  the  even  tenor  of  his  way  ” despite  bridle  and  spur, 
is  difficult  to  tell.  But  certain  it  is,  Mr.  Weeks’s  efforts 
seemed  to  mend  the  matter  but  very  little.  In  this 
fashion  he  managed  to  dodge  along  for  a mile  or  two, 
his  legs  swinging  to  and  fro  under  the  horse’s  belly,  and 
his  left  hand  jerking  the  bridle  at  every  step  ; when  all 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


241 


of  a sudden  the  pony  came  to  a dead  halt,  and  absolutely 
refused  to  proceed  another  inch  in  that  direction. 

Mr.  Weeks,  who  had  ridden  the  horse  half  a dozen 
times  before,  and  never  had  any  difficulty  with  him,  felt 
rather  surprised  at  his  conduct,  and  took  good  care  to 
express  himself  accordingly,  both  in  word  and  deed. 
After  spurring  for  a while  without  any  effect,  it  occurred 
to  him  the  saddle  gear  might  have  got  out  of  place,  and 
he  instantly  dismounted  to  examine.  But  to  his  great 
disappointment  he  found  himself  mistaken.  Every  thing 
was  exactly  where  it  ought  to  be.  Taking  the  reins 
then,  he  tried  to  lead  the  pony  past  the  spot ; but  the 
pony  decidedly  refused  to  lift  a foot.  It  was  very  pro- 
voking to  Mr.  Weeks,  to  find  himself  there  on  the 
public  highway, beating  and  shouting  at  the  perverse 
little  animal,  and  every  body  laughing  at  him  as  they 
passed  by.  It  was  unpleasant,  to  say  the  least  of  it, 
and  Mr.  Weeks,  as  might  be  expected,  felt  very  uncom- 
fortable indeed.  At  length,  when  he  tried  and  tried  in 
vain,  and  saw  no  likelihood  of  succeeding  by  ordinary 
means,  he  drew  a knife  from  his  pocket,  cut  a stout  ash 
sapling  from  a tree  by  the  road-side,  and  then  remounting, 
laid  on  the  pony  with  might  and  main,  determined,  if  he 
still  refused  to  proceed,  it  shouldnft  be  for  want  of 
urging.  The  animal,  finding  matters  growing  serious, 
but  resolved,  notwithstanding,  to  have  his  own  way,  now 
took  the  bridle  bit  between  his  teeth,  and  poking  down  his 
head,  wheeled  round,  and  started  off  to  Crohan  House  at 
full  gallop.  Weeks,  unable  to  manage  the  sapling  any 
longer,  threw  it  from  him,  and  seized  the  reins  with  both 
hands  to  haul  him  up  ; but  alas  I he  might  as  well  have 
seized  the  horns  of  a buffalo  : on  drove  the  headstrong 
little  Rahery  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  and  apparently  with 
as  much  ease  as  if  he  carried  a child  on  his  back. 

''Hoa!  hoa ! shouted  Weeks;  hoa,  ye  darned 
critter. 

The  pony,  unaccustomed  to  the  Yankee  manner  of 
address,  mistook  it  probably  for  a command  to  go  the 
faster,  and  on  he  drove  accordingly. 

21 


242 


.MARY  LEE,  OR 


TarDation  to  ye  ! cried  Weeks,  as  his  hat  flew  off, 
and  his  long  sandy  hair  floated  back  on  the  breeze. 

Tarnation  to  ye ! hain^t  ye  got  no  mouth  on  ye  nor 
nothing  ? hoa,  there,  hoa  ! I say.  0 merciful  Heavens  1 
such  a country  ! 

At  this  moment,  a party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  some 
five  or  six  in  number,  came  riding  up,  meeting  him  at  a 
smart  trot,  and  Weeks,  seeing  their  approach,  motioned 
them  to  stop  his  horse.  One  of  the  riders  crossed  the 
road  for  that  purpose,  and  waved  his  handkerchief ; but 
the  mischievous  animal,  on  seeing  his  way  blocked  up, 
instead  of  coming  to  a sudden  halt,  wheeled  off  sideways, 
and  ran,  or  rather  tumbled,  down  a steep  bank  by  the 
road-side,  right  into  a farmer’s  kitchen,  with  the  rider’s 
arms  clasped  round  his  neck.  The  blind  impetuosity 
with  which  the  pony  drove  on,  and  the  nearness  of  the 
house,  left  him  no  time  to  choose  ; so  that  rider  and 
horse  were  both  in  the  man’s  house  before  they  knew  it. 
Then  came  the  catastrophe  ; for  the  pony,  unable  to  stop 
his  speed  down  the  bank,  not  only  passed  through  the 
door  with  resistless  force,  but  came  full  tilt  against  the 
dresser,”  which  stood  opposite,  breaking  at  a single 
crash  every  article  of  delft  on  its  shelves,  and  confound- 
ing man,  horse,  and  dishes  in  one  common  disaster. 

The  confusion  which  followed  was  amusing.  The 
man’s  wife  ran  out  with  a child  in  her  arms,  screaming 
murder  and  robbery  — half  a dozen  little  boys  and  girls 
ran  after  her,  yelling  and  crying  for  help  — the  pony 
backed  out  after  doing  the  mischief,  and  scampered  off  to 
his  manger — and  the  owner  of  the  house  made  his 
appearance  in  his  shirt  sleeves  with  a pitchfork  in  his 
hand,  swearing  all  sorts  of  instant  vengeance  against 
the  murdherin  ” villain  in  the  kitchen. 

Stop,  stop,  my  good  fellow,”  exclaimed  one  of  the 
party  on  horseback,  who,  seeing  how  matters  stood,  had 
dismounted  and  arrested  the  weapon.  ''Stop — this  is 
a mere  accident,  my  good  man.” 

"Away  — out  i’  my  road,”  shouted  the  farmer. 
"Stand  off,  and  let  me  at  him  this  minute,  or  by  — ” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


243 


But  here  he  paused  and  swallowed  the  oath,  for  on 
looking  over  his  shoulder  he  found  himself  in  the  hands 
of  Captain  Petersham. 

I beg  yer  honoris  pardon,  sir,  but  I’ll  have  his 
life.” 

Silence  I ” commanded  the  captain. 

I can’t,  sir ; look  at  the  wrack  he  made,  the  mur- 
dherin  villain  ! I’ll  brain  him  this  minute.  I’ll  smash  — ” 

Listen  to  me,  sir.” 

Flesh  and  blood  cudn’t  stan  it,  captain.” 

Stop  this  instant,  or  I’ll  horsewhip  you  within  an 
inch  of  your  life.” 

The  thievin  vagabond  I where  is  he  ? till  I knock 
saucepans  out  of  him.” 

Will  you  not  listen  to  me,  you  dog  ? ” 

^'The  bloody  cutthroat.  I’ll  have  his  life.” 

Robert,  ho  there,  Robert,  hand  the  reins  to  Mr. 
Whately.  Quick,  sir;  and  you,  Mr.  Johnson,  help  him 
to  gag  this  blundering  fool,  while  I go  in  and  see  what 
the  matter  is.” 

Bekase  he’s  one  i’  the  quality,  he  has  lave  to  do 
what  he  lakes  ; but  I’ll  tache  him  the  difference.” 

Who  is  he,  Mr.  Whately  ? ” inquired  one  of  the 
ladies,  whose  horse  kept  prancing  in  front  of  the  door. 

Is  the  unfortunate  man  of  this  neighborhood  ? ” de- 
manded another. 

''Is  he  much  hurt  ? ” said  a third,  addressing  the  farm- 
er’s wife,  who  was  now  making  her  way  through  the 
crowd  of  horses,  with  the  child  still  in  her  arms. 

" How  can  I tell  yer  ladyship  whether  he’s  hurt  or  not  ? 
But  the  sorra’s  cure  to  him  any  way,  the  dirty  gomeril  — 
to  smash  our  bits  o’  plenishin,  that  I bought  only  last 
week  in  Francy  McGarvey’s  with  the  dribs  i’  money  I 
earned  hard  with  my  own  four  bones.  Bad  luck  to  him 
every  day  he  rises.” 

By  this  time  Captain  Petersham  succeeded  in  making 
his  way  through  the  kitchen  over  broken  plates  and 
dishes,  and  there  found  the  hero  of  the  tragedy  with  his 


244 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


hands  thrust  down  into  his  breeches  pocket,  standing  in 
the  midst  of  the  ruins  he  had  made. 

''  What^s  the  damage,  major  ? said  the  Yankee,  shak- 
ing up  the  silver,  as  the  captain  approached  him;  '^what^s 
the  damage  ? Fll  foot  the  bill.  Scissors  ! such  a coun- 
try ! he  muttered  to  himself.  0,  if  I were  only  once 
— say,  what^s  the  damage  ? 

Damage  ? * 

''Yes  — hold  on,  though;  you  ain^t  boss  of  the  shan- 
ty, — are  you  ? ’’ 

" I,  no,  sir.  Why,  my  Heavens  ! is  this  you  ? 

" Well,  yes,  I guess  Pm  that  particular  individual. 

" Mr.  Weeks  of  Drakesville,  eh  ? ’’ 

"No,  sir,  it  ainH  — Ducksville,  if  you  please.^' 

"Yes,  yes,  I recollect  — Ducksville.  Pm  really  very 
sorry,  Mr.  Weeks.  Upon  my  honor,  my  dear  fellow.  Pm 
exceedingly  sorry. 

" Why,  who  the  thunder  are  you  ? Hold  on.  As  I 
live.  Captain  Petersham,  of  Castle  Gregory  ! How  do, 
captain  ? Glad  to  see  you.  Got  into  a kinder  snarl 
here.^^ 

" Ha,  ha  ! you’re  not  accustomed  to  our  Irish  horses 
yet,”  observed  the  captain,  laughing.  " Got  hurt,  eh  ? ” 

"No,  sir,  not  a mite  — got  my  coat  torn  and  lost  my 
hat  — that’s  all.” 

" Well,  never  mind  — it  might  have  been  worse. 
Come,  I’ve  a horse  at  the  door  to  carry  you  to  Castle 
Gregory.  You’ll  dine  with  us,  of  course.” 

" Well,  the  fact  is,  I was  a-going  there  when  this  con- 
founded accident  happened.” 

" Thank  you.  Come  then.  I’ll  settle  all  this  for  you 
to-morix)w.” 

Whilst  the  foregoing  colloquy  was  taking  place,  the 
owner  of  the  house  had  been  gradually  quieted  down  by 
the  captain’s  friends  outside,  and  the  captain  himself  had 
succeeded  in  leading  Mr.  Weeks  to  the  door,  where  his 
servant’s  horse  awaited  him  to  mount.  As  the  latter, 
ashamed  and  discomfited,  slowly  advanced  and  looked 
up,  he  felt  " kinder  uncomfortable,”  to  use  one  of  his 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


245 


own  phrases,  at  seeing  so  many  eyes  fixed  on  him.  But 
the  confusion  lasted  only  a moment,  for,  like  his  country- 
men, Mr.  Weekses  recuperative  powers  were  always  at 
hand. 

Ladies  and  gentlemen, said  the  captain,  by  way  of 
a passing  introduction,  this  is  Mr.  Drake,  of  Weeks- 
ville,  Connecticut,  United — 

Mr.  Weeks,  if  you  please  — and  the  speaker  drew 
forth  a card  from  his  silver  case,  and  presented  it  respect- 
fully to  his  friend.  '^My  name,  sir,  you  will  perceive,  is 
Weeks  — Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks,  Ducksville,  Connecticut, 
United  States. 

Just  so,  Mr.  Weeks.  Excuse  me,  my  dear  fellow; 
I^m  the  most  confounded  blunderer  imaginable.  Hang 
it,  I^m  always  blundering  about  that  name  some  how, 
and  can’t  tell  how  it  happens.” 

Never  mind  the  name,  Mr.  Weeks,”  said  one  of  the 
ladies  on  horseback ; mount  this  horse  here,  and  come 
with  us  to  Castle  Gregory ; ” and  the  speaker,  touching 
the  spirited  animal  she  rode  on  the  flank  with  her  riding 
whip,  broke  through  the  crowd,  and  prancing  up  to  the 
door,  stretched  out  her  hand  to  the  American  ; come, 
sir ; I’ve  been  long  wishing  to  see  you  ; and  now  you 
and  I must  ride  together  and  have  a chat  in  advance  of 
the  party.” 

''  Who  is  she,  captain  ? ” whispered  Weeks,  after  he 
had  touched  the  lady’s  hand. 

That’s  my  sister — Kate  Petersham.” 

You  don’t  say  ! ” 

Never  saw  her  before,  I presume.” 

No  — often  heard  of  her,  though.  Kinder  smart, 
ain’t  she  ? ” 

Yes,  sometimes  — when  she  takes  the  notion.” 

She  looks  sorter  spry — rides  well,  1 guess.” 

''  Yes  ; does  pretty  fair  at  a fox  hunt.  Like  to  cross 
a ditch  or  two  with  her,  eh  ? You  can  have  any  of  my 
horses  you  please.” 

No,  I thank  you  : I should  rather  not  at  present. 

21  * 


246 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


That^s  a pretty  piece  of  horse  flesh  she  rides  — ain^t 
itr^ 

Yes,  sir  ; that^s  the  best  mare  of  her  inches  in  the 
province  of  Ulster.  1^11  back  her  against  any  thing  of 
her  age  and  weight  in  Ireland,  for  a thousand. 

Should  like  to  own  the  critter. 

Can’t,  sir ; Kate  would  as  soon  part  with  her  right 
hand  as  part  with  ^ Moll  Pitcher.’  See  how  she  dances, 
the  wild  creature  — she’s  mad  to  get  off.” 

What  detains  you,  Mr.  Weeks  ? ” cried  Kate. 

Excuse  me,  madam,  for  a moment ; I’ll  be  with  you 
presently.” 

''Make  haste  then,”  urged  the  captain;  ‘'the  lady 
will  feel  quite  offended  if  you  keep  her  waiting.” 

*'  Here,  my  good  woman,”  said  Weeks,  taking  a couple 
of  sovereigns  from  his  purse,  and  handing  them  to  the 
farmer’s  wife;  "here,  take  these,  and  replenish  your 
shelves.” 

"You  seem  to  be  in  a great  hurry  to  repair  the  dam- 
age,” observed  the  captain. 

" Well,  I guess  it’s  just  as  well  — ain’t  it  ? ’’ 

" To-morrow  had  been  time  enough.” 

" To-morrow.  By  jingo,  I shouldn’t  wonder  if  that 
crazy  coon,  her  husband,  had  my  life  before  half  the 
time.  These  countrymen  of  yours,  captain,  ain’t  to  be 
trusted.” 

" Ha,  ha  ! I see  you’re  not  acquainted  yet  with  the 
disposition  of  the  Irish.” 

" Ain’t  I,  though  ? Well,  I rather  guess  I am  some. 
By  crackle,  if  I ain’t,  for  my  short  time  amongst  them, 
I don’t  know  who  is.  Say,  my  good  woman,  hain’t  you 
got  a hat. I could  have  for  a day  or  so  ? Fly  round  and 
see  if  you  can  find  one.” 

" Mr.  Weeks,  Mr.  Weeks,”  cried  Kate  again — "here 
I am  waiting  for  you  all  this  time,  and  Moll  Pitcher  so 
restive  that  I can  hardly  manage  her.” 

" Never  mind  the  hat,”  said  the  captain,  dragging 
Weeks  by  the  arm  — "never  mind  it  now;  we’ll  pick 
up  your  own  on  the  road.” 


HE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


247 


Hold  on  a second  — hurry  up,  my  good  woman  ; let 
me  have  something  to  cover  my  head.  Hilloa ! what’s 
that  ? ” he  demanded,  as  she  handed  him  a rabbit-skin 
cap.  What  the  thunder  is  this  ? Hain’t  I seen  that 
. cap  before  ? ” 

No  matter ; put  it  on,”  entreated  the  captain,  im- 
patiently, and  let’s  be  off.” 

Wait  a minute  — what’s  this  in  the  bottom  of  it,  eh  ? 
— a letter,  I swonnie  it  is,  — and  to  Miss  Kate  Peters- 
ham, too.  Why,  how’s  this  ? ’•’ 

Who  owns  the  cap  ? ” demanded  the  captain. 

I own  it,”  said  a new  comer,  issuing  from  a door  of 
a little  room  behind  the  dresser.  I own  it,  sir.” 

'‘Lanty  Hanlon  ! ” 

Let  me  have  the  cap,  sir  — here’s  one  to  replace  it,” 
said  Lanty,  handing  Weeks  another  of  nearly  the  same 
description,  and  taking  his  own  without  the  least  cere- 
mony from  the  hands  of  the  astonished  Yankee. 

Well  there  ! — say,  captain,  can  you  tell  me  how 
many  duplicates  of  this  individual  are  to  be  found  in  the 
deestrict,  or,  in  other  words,  is  he  really  the  old  gentle- 
man himself  ? ” 

Lanty  Hanlon,  how  came  you  by  this  letter  ? ” 

Don’t  trouble  yourself  about  it,  captain,”  replied 
Kate  ; it’s  only  a love  letter.  Hand  it  here,  Lanty. 
I’ll  meet  you  at  the  place  you  know,  this  evening.  Be 
punctual  now,  or  I’ll  discard  you.” 

Niver  fear,  my  lady  ; I’ll  be  there  ; but  mind,  if  you 
don’t  be  up  to  time  yourself,  we  must  break  the  engage- 
ment.” And  throwing  the  cap  carelessly  on  his  head, 
he  disappeared  as  he  came. 

''  I see,  captain,  you  know  that  fellow.” 

0,  yes  ; I have  known  Lanty  for  years.” 

Well,  he’s  a tarnation  villain  ; let  me  tell  you 
that.” 

Lanty  — ha  ! ha  ! 0,  no,  he’s  not  a bad  fellow.  Fond 
of  playing  tricks,  that’s  all.” 

Tricks  — he’s  the  darnedest  rascal  unhung.” 

Weeks  now  mounted  the  groom’s  horse,  which  proved 


248 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


to  be  a gentle,  well-disposed  animal ; and  with  the  cap- 
tain on  one  side  and  Kate  on  the  other,  rode  in  front 
of  the  procession,  his  rabbit-skin  cap  jantily  set  on  the 
side  of  his  head,  and  his  hands  and  feet  jerking  and 
swinging  as  before,  to  the  no  small  amusement  of  the 
party. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


249 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Uncle  Jerry  and  the  Three  Twins. — A Surprise. 

The  reader  will  remember  that  Mrs.  Motherly  had  a 
strong  objection  to  Mr.  Guirkie’s  carrying  his  purse 
with  him,  whenever  she  suspected  him  of  going  to  visit 
the  blind  fiddler  at  the  Cairn,  or  the  widow  with  the 
three  twins, at  Ballymastocker.  She  insisted  it  was 
her  duty  to  search  his  pockets  on  such  occasions,  and  he 
permitted  her  to  do  so,  with  all  the  docility  of  a child, 
save  and  except  when  a third  party  happened  to  be  pres- 
ent ; then  he  drew  himself  up,  and  proclaimed  his  inde- 
pendence both  by  word  and  look,  but  so  ostentatiously 
withal,  that  any  one  with  the  slightest  discrimination 
might  have  seen  it  was  only  the  advantage  the  coward 
takes,  when  he  unexpectedly  finds  help  at  his  back.  Un- 
cle Jerry  was,  we  must  .admit,  rather  peculiar  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  his  benevolence,  or,  as  Mrs.  Motherly  used  to 
say,  very  odd  in  his  ways.  It  was  not  exactly  because 
Batt  Curley  of  the  Cairn  was  destitute  of  the  ordinary 
means  of  living,  that  he  took  such  a 'kindly  interest  in 
him,  for  Batt  always  earned  enough  to  eat  and  drink  by 
his  fiddle,  hard  as  the  times  were  f it  was  because  he 
was  old  and  blind,  and  only  a fiddler  at  that.  So  also 
with  respect  to  the  widow  and  the  ''three  twins, at 
Ballymastocker ; there  was  nothing  very  lamentable  in 
her  case  either  ; but  the  thought  of  a poor  lone  woman, 
with  three  children  born  at  a birth  to  take  care  of,  so 
fixed  itself  about  his  heart,  that  he  found  it  impossible  to 
banish  it.  And  it  was  only  because  the  case  of  the  ne- 
gro had  something  peculiar  in  it,  his  sympathy  was  so 
suddenly  excited  in  his  favor.  Had  the  doctor  told  him 
the  negroes  arms  had  been  broken,  he  would  have  felt  for 
the  poor  sufferer,  no  doubt,  as  he  felt  for  everybody  in 
distress  ; but  to  have  all  his  toes  broken  and  disjointed, 
was  something  dreadful  to  think  of.  A poor  African 


250 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


wounded  in  this  manner  touched  the  tenderest  sympa- 
thies of  his  generous  soul. 

The  reader  must  not  imagine  for  a moment,  notwith- 
standing all  we  have*  said,  that  Uncle  Jerry^s  fancy  had 
more  to  do  with  his  benevolence  than  his  heart.  No  such 
thing  ; fancy  was  only  the  angel  of  light  that  stood  by, 
while  charity,  the  first  born  of  the  Redeemer's  love,  drew 
the  picture  of  human  sorrow,  and  held  it  up  before  him. 
Christian  Charity,  loveliest  of  virtues  ! when  the  Saviour, 
who  gave  you  in  triumph  to  the  world,  first  presented 
you  on  Calvary,  how  beautiful  you  were  then  ! When, 
taking  you  by  the  hand,  he  led  you  up  the  hill,  and  point- 
ing to  the  Sun  of  Christianity  just  beginning  to  rise,  bade 
you  go  forth  to  bless  and  bind  all  hearts  together,  till  the 
light  of  that  Sun  should  again  be  absorbed  in  the  source 
of  its  life  forevermore,  — how  modest  your  blushing  face, 
and  how  timid  your  noiseless  step,  as  you  then  came  out 
from  the  darkness  of  paganism,  to  weave  your  web  of 
love  round  the  great  heart  of  regenerated  humanity-! 
You  had  worshippers  in  those  days  to  fall  in  millions  at 
your  feet ; but  where  are  they  now  ? Alas,  alas  ! like 
the  deserted  king  of  Greece,  looking  round  the  Bay  of 
Salamis  for  his  scattered  ships,  — 

“You  counted  them  at  break  of  day. 

But  when  the  sun  set  where  were  they  ? ” 

The  goddess  of  Charity  whom  men  worship  now,  how 
unlike  thee  she  is ! Bold  and  proud,  she  walks  with 
stately  step,  and  shuns  the  lowly  cabin  on  her  way  to 
princely  halls.  She  extends  no  friendly  hand  to  the  help- 
less and  houseless  in  the  darkness  of  night,  hut  waits 
for  the  broad  glare  of  noonday,  to  carry  her  gifts  to  the 
market  place.  She  stalks  along  the  public  thoroughfares 
in  wanton  attire,  surrounded  by  followers  whom  she  at- 
tracts by  the  splendor  of  her  garments  and  the  stateli- 
ness of  her  mien.  She  sets  herself  up  as  thy  rival,  mod- 
est, blushing  child  of  God.  In  the  flaunting  dress  of  the 
courtesan,  she  disputes  thy  empire  over  the  hearts  of 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


251 


men ; and,  alas  that  we  must  confess  it ! she  gains  the 
victory. 

But,  dear  reader,  fallen  as  the  world  is,  there  are  some 
true  hearts  to  be  found  in  it  still ; some  who,  like  Uncle 
Jerry,  will  steal  away  into,  obscure  places  to  comfort 
the  poor,  and  blush  like  him  to  be  caught  in  the  act.  So 
was  it  now. 

It  appears  that  Mr.  Guirkie,  instead  of  going  directly  to 
Rathmullen,  on  his  weekly  visit  to  the  old  churchyard,  as 
Mrs.  Motherl}’^  had  supposed,  fell  in  with  the  priest,  on 
his  way  to  visit  the  widow  with  the  three  twins,  at 
Ballymastocker,  who  was  taken  suddenly  ill,  and  instant- 
ly resolved  to  accompany  him  to  the  house. 

As  Captain  Petersham,  with  his  party,  Yode  along,  two 
horses,  standing  at  the  widow^s  door,  attracted  his  atten- 
tion ; and  on  coming  up,  he  recognized  them  as  Father 
John^s  and  Mr.  Guirkie^s,  At  once  he  made  up  his  mind 
to  invite  the  two  friends  to  Castle  Gregory,  and  accord- 
ingly dismounted  for  that  purpose. 

On  entering  the  humble  dwelling  of  the  widow,  or 
rather  as  he  stepped  on  the  threshold,  a sight  met  his 
view  which  caused  him  instantly  to  draw  back.  Uncle 
Jerry  was  sitting  near  the  fireplace,  with  his  back  to  the 
door,  and  so  intent  at  his  occupation,  that  he  neither 
heard  the  captain^s  footstep,  nor  observed  the  shadow  his 
person  cast  upon  the  wall  as  he  came  in.  The  latter, 
as  the  reader  knows  already,  was  a blunt,  outspoken, 
honest-hearted,  rollicking  country-gentleman  of  the  old 
school,  and  Kate,  knowing  his  ways  so  well,  had  been 
expecting  every  instant  to  hear  his  voice  in  high  banter 
with  Uncle  Jerry  ; but,  instead  of  that,  she  was  rather 
surprised  to  see  him  steal  out  again  on  tiptoe,  with  his 
hands  raised  up  in  wonder,  as  if  at  something  he  had 
witnessed  within. 

WhaPs  the  matter,  captain  ? she  demanded;  ^Ms 
the  widow  dead  ? 

''Not  that  I know  of;  but  such  a sight  as  that  I 
haven^t  seen  for  years  — come  down  and  behold  it  with 


252 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


your  own  eyes ; and  lifting  her  from  the  saddle,  he 
escorted  her  to  the  door  of  the  cabin. 

Mr.  Weeks  and  the  other  gentlemen  of  the  party,  hear- 
ing the  captain^s  words,  were  instantly  excited  by  a 
natural  curiosity  to  see  what  was  going  on,  and  alighted 
also. 

Uncle  Jerry  was  still  intent  on  his  work.  He  was 
rocking  a cradle  of  more  than  ordinary  proportions,  made 
of  coarse  wicker-work,  in  which  the  three  twins  were 
soundly  sleeping.  On  a low  stool  beside  him  lay  his 
pocket  handkerchief,  which  he  had  been  using  when  the 
captain  first  saw  him,  and  had  only  laid  down  as  the  party 
came  crowding  round  the  door. 

Gentlemen,"'^  said  Kate,  turning  to  her  friends  and 
whispering  her  words  low,  I beg  you^ll  retire.  This  is 
no  fitting  scene  for  profane  eyes  like  yours.  Away,  and 
leave  the  captain  and  me  to  speak  to  him.^^ 

They  did  as  directed  ; and  then  Kate,  motioning  the 
latter  to  keep  his  place,  stepped  across  the  earthen  floor 
with  the  lightness  of  a bird,  and  stood  behind  the  watcher. 
She  was  about  to  touch  him  on  the  shoulder  with  her 
finger  to  make  him  aware  of  her  presence,  but  drew  it 
suddenly  back  again,  and  waited  a minute  longer. 

In  that  short  minute  Uncle  Jerry  had  laid  open  his 
whole  heart  to  her.  She  could  read  it  as  plainly  as  a 
book.  Inserting  his  hand  into  the  lining  of  his  great  seal- 
skin cap,  he  drew  forth  from  a secret  pocket,  which  Mrs. 
Motherly  had  failed  to  discover,  a Bank  of  Ireland  note, 
and  rolling  it  up  into  convenient  shape,  took  the  hand 
of  one  of  the  orphans,  and  wove  it  in  between  its  fingers. 
As  he  did  so,  a big  tear  dropped  on  the  hand,  and  Uncle 
Jerry  took  up  his  handkerchief  to  wipe  it  off. 

**  Hold  I said  Kate;  ^^let  it  remain  there,  to  conse- 
crate the  offering.^' 

God  bless  me  I ’’  exclaimed  Mr.  Guirkie,  looking  up 
with  his  eyes  still  full.  Why,  I thought  I was  alone. 

''  And  if  you  were,’^  replied  Kate,  hardly  able  to  re- 
strain her  own  tears,  the  lesson  had  been  lost.^^ 

What  lesson  ? 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


263 


That/^  said  she,  pointing  to  the  child^s  hand  holding 
the  money,  with  the  mercy  drop  glistening  on  it. 

‘'  Why,  upon  ray  word  and  honor,  Kate,^^  said  Uncle 
Jerry,  wiping  his  tears,  " I don^t  know  how  it  is,  but  the 
smoke  of  the  peat  fire  affects  my  eyes  more  than  ever  — 
perhaps  iUs  because  Um  growing  older. 

Kate  took  his  hand  and  pressed  it  lovingly  in  hers. 
" God  bless  you,^^  she  said.  " I never  see  you  but  I feel 
my  heart  growing  better.  If  charity  and  faith  ever  dwell 
in  human  bosoms,  they  are  surely  to  be.  found  in  yours. 
But  tell  me,  where  is  Father  John  ? 

Uncle  Jerry  pointed  to  the  room. 

" Has  he  finished  ? 

"Yes  — you  may  go  in.^^ 

Kate  opened  the  door  gently,  but  seeing  Father  John 
kneeling  by  the  bedside  of  his  penitent,  closed  it  again. 

" Come  in,^^  said  the  priest,  turning  his  head  a little, 
and  seeing  her  form  as  she  opened  the  door  ; " come  in, 
Miss  Petersham  ; and  as  I administer  the  sacrament  of 
the  body  and  blood  of  the  Kedeerner  to  this  poor  dying 
creature,  beg  of  him,  by  the  love  he  bore  you  in  the  in- 
stitution of  this  adorable  mystery  of  the  eucharist,  to  con- 
vert you  to  the  true  and  living  faith. 

Kate  fell  upon  her  knees. 

" God  of  love/^  said  the  priest,  prostrate  before  the 
open  pix,  " if  ever  I have  done  aught  to  deserve  a blessing 
at  thy  hands,  I now  implore  thee  to  touch  the  heart  of 
this  erring  child.  Breathe  into  her  soul  the  spirit  that 
quickeneth  unto  life,  that  she  may  one  day  feel  how  good 
thou  art,  and  how  inestimable  a treasure  she  possesses  in 
the  sacrament  of  thy  love.  And  thou,  0 Mary,  Mother 
of  God,  pray  for  her,  that  she  may  soon  break  asunder 
those  earthly  ties  that  hold  her  back  from  the  arms  of  the 
church  of  Christ  stretched  out  to  embrace  her.^^ 

He  then  rose  and  administered  the  viaticum  to  the 
dying  woman,  afterwards  the  sacrament  of  extreme  unc- 
tion, and,  kneeling  once  more  by  her  bedside,  recom- 
mended her  soul  fervently  to  the  God  who  gave  it. 

As  he  turned  to  quit  the  room,  Kate  looked  up  in  his 
22 


254 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


face,  her  cheeks  flushed  with  the  emotions  of  her  hpart. 

Father, she  cried,  still  kneeling  before  him,  ^'father, 
give  me  thy  hand  ; and  kissing  it,  she  placed  it  on  her 
head,  and  asked  his  blessing. 

He  gave  it  from  the  depth  of  his  heart.  Then  Kate 
rose,  and  silently  accompanied  her  two  friends  to  the 
door,  where  the  party  impatiently  awaited  their  coming. 

The  captain,  who  had  been  a silent  witness  of  the 
whole  scene,  touched  his  cap  respectfully  as  the  priest 
appeared,  and  silently  mounting  his  horse,  rode  off  with 
his  friends  to  Castle  Gregory. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


265 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Mr.  Weeks  professes  Washingtonian  Principles^  hut  is  in- 
ducedy  notwithstanding^  to  taste  Whiskey  Punch.  — Its 
wonderful  Effects. 

Mr.  Weeks/^  said  Captain  Petersham,  after  dinner 
was  over  and  the  cloth  removed,  ^^Pm  delighted  to  see 
you  at  Castle  Gregory ; and  now,  as  the  ladies  have  left 
us,  we  must  drink  a glass  of  stout  Innishowen  together. 
Mr.  Johnson,  shove  down  the  decanter  to  our  American 
friend. 

Excuse  me,  captain,^^  said  Weeks  ; I never  drink. 

Nonsense ! you  must  drink.  By  George,  thaPs  a 
pretty  thing  ! not  drink,  indeed  I why,  you’re  not  a tee- 
totaler, are  you  ? ” 

Well,  pretty  much.  I’m  a Washingtonian.” 

Of  course  you  are  — I know  all  that.  But  you  don’t 
mean  to  say  that  every  Washingtonian ’s  a temperance 
man  ? ” 

You  mistake,  I reckon,”  said  Weeks.  A Washing- 
tonian don’t  mean  an  American,  exactly,  but  a member 
of  a certain  temperance  society.” 

0,  I see  — that’s  the  meaning  of  it.  So  you  belong 
to  a temperance  society,  then  ! Well,  ’pon  my  honor, 
friend  Weeks,  I had  formed  a better  opinion  of  you.” 

Don’t  think  it  wrong  to  take  a pledge  against  liquor, 
do  you  ? ” 

"'No — not  perhaps  for  the  working  classes  — but  I 
think  no  gentleman . should  take  it.  If  a sense  of  his 
position,  and  respect  for  his  honor,  don’t  restrain  a gen- 
tleman from  brutalizing  himself,  then  I say  he’s  no  gentle- 
man, and  no  pledge  or  oath  can  bind  him.  What  think 
you.  Father  John  ? ” 

" You’re  right,  captain  ; except  in  those  rare  instances 
when  gentlemen  regard  excess  as  a sin  against  God  ; in 


256 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


such  cases  a pledge  may  restrain  them  when  their  honor 
can^t.  Perhaps  Mr.  Weeks  is  one  of  this  class. 

How  — regard  intoxication  as  a sin  against  God  ? 

^^Yes  — for  which  he,  one  day,  will  bring  you  to  ac- 
count.^^ 

Well,  as  to  that,^^  replied  Weeks,  I reckon  it  de- 
pends materially  on  the  kinder  notions  one  has  formed 
on  that  ere  point.  Folks  differ,  you  know,  considerable 
about  the  sorter  being  God  is  ; and,  as  for  myself,  I can^t 
say  I ever  got  well  posted  up  on  the  subject.  But  I 
always  maintained  that  the  abuse  of  liquor  was  a sin 
against  society. 

''  Of  course  — there  never  was  a second  opinion  about 
that.^^ 

And  I always  set  my  face  against  it  on  that  account. 

Precisely ; you  adopted  the  prevailing  sentiment 
— for  I can  call  it  by  no  other  name  — that  the  abuse 
of  liquor  should  be  discouraged,  not  because  iPs  offen- 
sive to  God  and  injurious  to  the  soul,  but  because  it^s 
offensive  to  society  — to  modest  eyes  and  ears  polite. 

'^Father  John,  take  my  advice,  and  drop  the  argu- 
ment, said  the  captain,  or  youJl  be  head  and  ears  into 
one  of  your  long  sermons  directly.  Mr.  Weeks,  don^t 
mind  him  — he^s  forever  moralizing.  Come,  fill  your 
glass  like  an  honest  man,  and  drink  your  national  toast  — 
^ Success  to  the  stars  and  stripes.^ 

Don^t  drink,  I assure  you,  captain.  Should  be  most 
happy  to  oblige  you,  but  iPs  against  my  principles. 

Against  the ! against  a man^s  principles  to  drink 

a glass  of  punch  at  a friend^s  table  ! 

Don^t  urge  the  gentleman,^^  said  two  or  three  of  the 
company  — don^t,  sir  ; he  has  scruples  about  it.  Every 
man  should  know  what  suits  himself  best.^^ 

''  Nonsense  1 I can^t  bear  to  look  at  a guest  sitting  at 
my  table  as  dry  as  a stick. 

''  Well,  to  please  you,  Pll  taste  something,^^  said 
Weeks,  at  last;  though  iPs  against  my  principles  to 
drink.  Mr.  Johnson,  have  the  goodness  to  make  me  a 
spoonful  or  two  of  sangaree.’^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


257 


''  Sangaree.  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! laughed  the  captain.  Not 
a drop  of  it,  Johnson  — not  a drop  ; make  him  a glass  of 
whiskey  punch.  Or,  stop  — send  it  up  to  me  ; Til  make 
it  myself. 

''  No,  no  — hold  on,  captain  ; excuse  me,^^  said 
Weeks,  intercepting  the  decanter  on  its  way  to  the  head 
of  the  table  ; excuse  me  ; Fd  rather  not ; Mr.  Johnson 
will  make  it.’^ 

‘'Why,  it  seems  so  strange  — Whately,  could  you 
have  imagined  it?  a freeman,  a citizen  of  the  model 
republic,  and  neither  Presbyterian  nor  Quaker,  to  belong 
to  a temperance  society.  Ha,  ha!  it^s  monstrous  I — it 
shocks  all  my  American  prepossessions.^^ 

Weeks  smiled  in  his  usual  cold  way,  and  assured  the 
captain  the  " Sons  of  Temperance  were  very  numerous 
in  the  States  ; and  that,  for  his  part,  he  had  been  strictly 
temperate  since  he  was  fifteen  years  old. 

" And,  pray,  Mr.  Weeks, said  the  captain,  filling  his 
glass  from  the  tumbler,  " what  pleasure  or  advantage 
can  you  derive  from  this  self-denial  you  practise  — it^s 
not  for  your  sins,  I suspect  — eh  ? 

" No,  sir  ; don^t  believe  in  that  doctrine. 

" And  why  the  mischief  do  you  abstain,  then  ? 

" W'hy,  because  it  suits  my  constitution  best,  and 
saves  my  pocket  besides. 

" 0,  that  indeed  ; I understand  you  now.^^ 

" Two  excellent  motives  — ain^t  they,  captain  ? 

"You  must  ask  Father  Brennan,  sir  ; that  question 
involves  a knowledge  of  morals  of  which  I profess  to  be 
entirely  ignorant.  What  say  you.  Father  John?  will  his 
motives  stand  the  test  of  your  theolog^^  ? ^^ 

Father  John  shook  his  head,  but  said  nothing  in  reply. 

" Well,  look  here,^^  pursued  Weeks,  turning  to  the 
priest.  " I ain’t  a-goin  to  dispute  the  matter  now  ; but 
just  multiply  fourteen  years  (the  time  I’ve  been  temperate) 
by  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  dollars  saved  each  year, 
— and  that’s  about  the  lowest  estimate  I can  make,  — 
and  you  have  precisely  five  thousand  one  hundred  and  ten 
22* 


258 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


dollars,  exclusive  of  interest.  Now  I call  that  a saving. 
I may  be  mistaken,  but  I call  it  a saving. 

Not  a doubt  of  it,^^  replied  the  priest,  smiling  — 
not  a doubt  of  it;  you  calculate  very  closely,  though 
— don^t  you  ? 

"'Well,  no,  sir;  I merely  follow  Cousin  Nathan^s 
advice,  and  don^t  waste  my  powder.  I had  a cousin 
once  called  Nathan  Bigelow  — 

''There,^^  ejaculated  Uncle  Jerry,  lajnng  down  his 
glass  untasted,  and  rising  from  the  table  ; there  ! he^s 
at  Nathan  again.  I vow  and  declare  I can^t  stand  it  — 
this  is  the  fifth  time.^^ 

What^s  the  matter,  Mr.  Guirkie  ? inquired  the 
captain. 

Nothing  very  particular,’^  replied  Uncle  Jerry,  making 
his  way  out  ; I’ll  return  presently.” 

Well,  this  cousin  of  mine,”  continued  Weeks,  this 
cousin  called  Nathan — ” 

0,  he’s  the  man  used  to  preside  at  town  meetings, 
direct  the  minister  what  to  preach,  and  so  forth.  Yes, 
yes,  you  needn’t  mind  ; we  have  heard  of  him.” 

''  Have,  eh  ? ” 

Yes  ; he’s  quite  familiar  to  us.” 

Well,  I was  only  going  to  say  that  I merely  followed 
his  advice.  And  now,  with  regard  to  my  second  motive, 
I found,  when  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  or  thereaways, 
that  liquor  proved  a leetle  too  exciting  for  my  constitu- 
tion, both  mentally  and  physically.” 

Ah,  indeed,”  said  the  priest ; how  so,  pray  ? ” 

Well,  it  softened  my  heart  a leetle  more  than  I found 
convenient.” 

You  drank  too  freely,  perhaps,  for  a boy  of  your 
age  ? ” 

Well,  guess  I did — rather;  can’t  say  I got  drunk, 
though  — got  tight  once  in  a while.  But  the  darned 
thing  used  to  draw  a sorter  skin  over  my  eyes,  that  I 
couldn’t  see  clearly  what  I was  about.” 

Hence  you  gave  it  up  ? ” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


259 


“ Yes.  You^d  like  to  know,  perhaps,  how  it  came 
round  ? 

''  Certainly  — let^s  hear  it,  by  all  means. 

Well,  it  was  kinder  funny,  too.  Father  sent  me  one 
morning,  when  I was  about  fifteen  or  a little  over,  to  a 
place  called  Meriden,  with  chickens  and  squash  for  the 
market.  It  happened  I took  a young  colt  with  me 
father  bought  short  time  before,  and  he  was  a smasher 
of  his  age,  I tell  you  — only  rising  five,  and  as  pretty  a 
piece  of  horse  flesh  as  you  could  scare  up  in  the  hull 
county.  After  selling  the  provisions  and  putting  the 
proceeds  in  my  wallet,  I dropped  into  a bar  room  to  have 
a drink  before  Pd  start  for  hum.  Just  as  I took  a cigar 
after  the  brandy,  a long-legged,  green-looking  chap  — 
Vermonter,  guess  he  was  — comes  up  to  the  counter, 
and  says  he,  ^ Youngster,  that  horse  of  yourn^s  pretty 
smart  horse,  I reckon.^  'Well,  yes,^  I said,  'considera- 
ble smart  for  a colt.^  ' What  time  does  he  make  ? ^ 
' Three  and  a half.^  Says  he,  ' No  ; can^t  do  it.^  ' Can^t  ? ^ 
says  I.  Says  he,  ' No,  haiiPt  got  the  points  for  three  and 
a half,  nor  four  neither.^  'Well,’  says  I,  quite  coolly, 
as  I lit  my  cigar,  'you  can  bet,  if  you’ve  a mind  to.’ 
'Agreed,’  says  he  ; ' what’ll  it  be  ?’  'I  ain’t  particular,’ 
said  I.  ' Well,’  says  he,  ' treat  for  all  round,  if  you’ve 
got  no  objection.’  'None,’  says  I;  'I’m  quite  agree- 
able.’ 

" Well,  having  got  the  lend  of  a sulky  from  a doctor 
in  the  neighborhood,  we  marked  the  course,  appointed  a 
time-keeper,  and  off  I started.  Crackie,  how  that  colt 
did  put  that  day  ! Well,  he  went  it  slick,  I tell  yer. 
The  critter  knew  just’s  well  as  I did  myself  what  he’d 
got  to  do,  and  he  struck  out  like  a good  fellow.” 

" Won  the  bet,  of  course  ? ’ 

" Won  it  ! Ye-e-s ; and  twenty  seconds  to  spare 
besides.  ' Well,’  said  the  tall  fellow,  coming  up  to  me, 
as  I stepped  from  the  sulky,  and  clapped  the  colt  on 
the  back,  — ' well,’  said  he,  ' he  did  his  prettiest,  I 
reckin  ? ’ 

"Said  I,  'No;  not  by  a long  chalk.’  'Darn  the 


260 


MAHY  LEE,  OR 


matter/  said  he,  ' he  won  the  bet,  any  wa}^  ; so  come  in 
and  have  a drink/  As  the  chap  spoke,  he  beckoned  to 
two  or  three  other  hard-looking  customers,  that  seemed 
to  be  loafing  about  the  corner,  and  then  dove  into  an 
oyster  cellar.  ' Brandy  smashes  and  cigars  for  five,^  said 
he,  passing  the  bar-keeper.  ' You'll  go  that,  youngster, 
won't  you  ? ' ^ Well,  don't  care  if  I do,'  said  I,  ' though 

I ain't  much  accustomed  to  it.'  " 

So  you  drank  too  much  on  that  occasion  ? " ob- 
served one  of  the  company,  interrupting  the  details,  for 
he  thought  Mr.  Weeks  was  growing  rather  tedious. 

''You'd  better  believe  it,  friend.  Well,  to  cut  the 
story  short,  before  I left  the  cellar  that  afternoon,  I lost 
the  price  of  the  squash  and  chickens,  and  swapped  the 
colt  besides  for  a Canadian  pony,  a gold  watch,  and 
thirty-seven  dollars  in  cash.  Next  morning  came,  though, 
and  0,  scissors  I if  I didn't  feel  like  suicide." 

"Conscience  stricken,"  said  the  priest,  "for  the 
night's  debauch  ? " 

" Conscience  stricken  ! Why,  no  ; but  letting  that 
green  chap  come  it  over  me  so  smooth.  Well,  I swow, 
I never  felt  so  cheap  in  my  life  — that's  a fact." 

"He  cheated  you,  then  ? " 

"Yes  — guess  he  did  cheat  me.  Hold  on  a bit, 
though  ; you'll  hear.  About  seven  o'clock  next  morn- 
ing, father  came  into  the  kitchen  swearing  like  fifty.  I 
was  lying  abed  at  the  time,  just  thinking  of  getting  up." 

" ' Where's  the  young  scamp  ? ' he  cried  : ' by  thun- 
der, I'll  cowhide  him  this  minute  within  an  inch  of  his 
life.' 

" ' Good  gracious  ! ' exclaimed  mother.  ' Why,  Amasa 
Weeks  ! Ain't  you  ashamed  ? ' 

" ' No,  I ain't.' 

" ' You  oughter  then.' 

" ' Stand  aside,'  shouted  father,  ' and  let  me  pass.' 

' Amasa,  ain't  you  crazy 

" ' Shut  up,  I say.  The  young  scoundrel ! I'll  teach 
him  how  to  trade  ! ' 

" ' Poor  child,'  said  mother,  ' it  was  his  first  trade ; 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


261 


and  what  could  you  expect  of  a boy  of  fifteen  ? Why, 
gracious,  if  he  was  taken  in  about  that  watch,  it  ain^t 
agoin  to  ruin  you  — is  it  ? ^ 

' But  the  horse  ! the  horse  ! ^ shouted  father. 

^ The  horse  I why,  what^s  the  matter  with  the  horse  ? ^ 

^ The  matter  ! — thunderation^s  the  matter  ! — the 
critter^s  blind  ! ^ 

' Blind  I — why,  you  don^t  say  ! ^ 

' And  lame  ! lame  ! the  tarnation  villain  ! ’ 
^^'Pheugh,^  said  I,  jumping  out  of  bed  and  bolting 
through  the  open  window  with  my  jacket  under  my  arm  ; 
^ it^s  time  I warn^t  here,  I reckon  ; ’ and  without  Waiting 
for  further  information  on  the  subject,  I cleared. 

After  the  suppressed  titter,  which  accompanied  Weekses 
story  all  through,  had  at  last  broken  out  into  a broad 
laugh,  and  then  subsided,  Father  John  quietly  observed 
that  the  gentleman^s  first  lesson  was  rather  an  expen- 
sive one. 

Should  think  so,^^  said  Weeks  in  reply  : it  cost  me, 
or  father  rather,  somewhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  two 
hundred  dollars. 

And  so,  after  that,  you  concluded  to  drink  no  more  ? 

Gave  it  up,  sir,  right  straight  off ; I saw  it  wouldn^t 
pay.'^ 

And  that,  I suppose,  was  your  only  motive  for  be- 
coming temperate  ? 

Why,  yes  — of  course  it  was.^^ 

Well,^^  said  the  priest,  I can^t  admire  it  much. 
Had  you  only  united  that  motive,  selfish  as  it  was,  with 
a desire  to  please  God,  and  save  your  soul  — 

Whew  ! ejaculated  Weeks,  interrupting  the  priest; 
that^s  quite  another  affair.  My  principle  is,  to  leave 
Christianity  and  religion,  and  all  that  sorter  thing,  to 
those  whose  duty  it  is  to  look  after  it.  Pm  a business 
man,  squire,  and  my  object  is  trade,  and  nothing  else.^^ 

Good  1 cried  the  captain,  returning  and  clapping 
Weeks  on  the  shoulder  as  he  passed  him  on  his  way  to 
the  head  of  the  table.  **  Good,  sir  ; thaPs  honest  speak- 
ing. By  George,  Weeks,  you^re  a trump. 


262 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Well,  themes  my  sentiments,  and  I ain^t  afraid  to 
avow  them  either, said  Weeks,  taking  courage  from  the 
captain  and  the  poteen  together.  Fm  a business  man, 
and  make  no  pretensions  to  piety,  nor  nothing  else.^^ 

Certainly  not,  sir  ; that^s  as  much  as  you  can  at- 
tend to.^’ 

Of  course  it  is  — no  doubt  of  it.^^ 

And  see  here,^^  said  Weeks,  after  finishing  the  last 
glass,  and  making  the  spoon  ring  in  the  empty  tumbler, 
— see  here,  captain ; I may  as  well  say  what  I think. 
I never  saw  a pious  business  man  yet  worth  a copper  to 
the  country.  I swonnie  I never  did.^^ 

Ha,  ha  ! laughed  the  captain  ; ''  listen  to  that. 
Father  John.^^ 

And  I tell  you  what,  sir,^^  continued  Weeks,  turn- 
ing to  the  priest,  — who  now  kept  his  head  down  to 
hide  a smile,  while  he  toyed  with  his  watch  chain  for  an 
excuse,  — I tell  you  what,  sir,  ministers  may  say  what 
they  please,  but  theyh*e  a darned  set  of  humbugs  ; that^s 
the  hull  amount  of  it.^^ 

^^Hah!  take  that,  my  reverend  friend, chuckled  the 
captain  again.  The  truth  occasionally,  you  know,  will 
do  you  good.^^ 

Fm  quite  surprised,  Mr.  Weeks, gravely  observed 
the  priest,  while  the  smile  still  kept  playing  about  the 
corners  of  his  mouth,  — Fm  really  surprised  to  hear  you 
speak  so  irreverently.^^ 

''  Well,  hold  on  a bit — hold  on  — see  here  : I know 
as  many  as  fifty  ministers  in  New  England  alone,  and 
more  too,  abandoned  their  pulpits  last  year,  and  went 
oif  to  speculate  in  this,  that,  and  t’other  thing,  to  make 
money.  Some  went  into  the  fish  business,  some  into  the 
lumber  trade,  two  on  ’em  from  my  own  town  turned  to 
the  law,  and  the  majority  managed  to  squeeze  themselves 
into  the  legislature.  Now,  if  these  men  had,  what  they 
pretended  to  have,  a vocation  to  the  ministry  before  their 
ordination,  where  in  thunder  did  it  go  after  ? Fd  like  to 
know.” 

It’s  no  doubt  a melancholy  fact,”  said  the  priest. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


263 


that  your  Protestant  clergy  of  New  England,  especially 
those  with  limited  revenues,  in  very  many  instances  have 
renounced  their  sacred  calling  for  more  lucrative  trades 
and  professions,  thereby  disgracing  -themselves  and  their 
religion.  Such  instances  are  very  rare  in  this  country, 
however. 

''  Are  ? — how^s  that  ? 

Why,  we  don^t  love  money  here,  perhaps,  so  much 
as  you  do  in  the  States  ; and  besides,  we  haven^t  the 
same  opportunities  to  speculate. 

Well,  that  may  be  all  very  true  ; but  iPs  my  opin- 
ion ministers,  in  general,  make  a trade  of  religion  every 
where,  one  way  or  other.  I have  had  a pretty  good 
chance  myself  to  see  how  the  thing  works,  and  I reckon 
I can  tell  as  much  about  it,  too,  as  most  folks.  Been  a 
class-leader  once  in  my  time.^^ 

''  What ! exclaimed  the  captain,  leaning  his  folded 
arms  on  the  table,  and  gazing  at  the  Yankee,  bedizened 
all  over  as  he  was  with  chains  and  brooches.  What,  a 
class-leader  — you  ? 

Yes.^' 

A Methodist  class-leader?^^ 

Why,  certainly. 

''  A canting  Methodist  class-leader?^^ 

Of  course.^' 

''  May  the  Lord  forgive  you,  sir.^^  (The  reader  is 
already  aware  of  the  captain^s  special  contempt  for  that 
particular  sect.)  Why,  you  must  have  lost  your 
senses.^’ 

''  Well,  they  are  a kinder  scraggy,  I allow. 

And  you  made  such  a spoony  of  yourself  as  to 
snivel  away  with  this  psalm-singing  set.  By  the  Lord 
Harry,  Weeks,  I thought  you  were  a different  man  alto- 
gether.^^ 

^^Well,  I admit  it  was  sorter  mean  — that^s  a fact. 
But  wait  a bit ; let  me  tell  you  how  it  happened.  I had 
an  object  in  view.^^ 

0,  confound  your  object ! 

Wait  a minute ; you’ll  say  it  warn’t  a bad  one,  if 


264 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


the  thing  had  been  properly  managed.  Well,  there  was 
a gal  in  our  neighborhood,  named  Brown  — Zepherina 
Brown,  or  Zeph,  as  she  was  called  for  shortness^  sake/^ 

''  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Weeks  — your  glass  is  empt}',^^  said 
the  captain.  Whately,  send  up  the  bottle. 

You^ll  excuse  me,  captain. 

Hang  your  excuses  ; make  a glass  of  punch,  sir,  like 
a man.^^ 

''  Well,  rd  rather  not,  just  at  present.’^ 

Nonsense  ! 

''  Fm  not  used  to  it,  you  know.^^ 

Used  to  it ! used  to  Innishowen  whiskey  twenty 
years  old  ? Are  you  used  to  new  milk  ? ^Pon  my  honor, 
sir,  Fm  ashamed  of  you.  If  you  don^t  drink,  by  the 
Lord  Harry  Fll  think  youh^e  a Methodist  still. 

Well,  I rather  think  Fll  be  ashamed  of  myself  before 
long,  if  I hold  on  at  this  rate.  It  begins  to  wake  me  up 
already.  I swonnie  it  does.^^ 

Psaugh!  My  dear  sir,  you  might  drink  a puncheon 
of  it.  Irish  whiskey^s  meat,  drink,  washing,  and  lodging 
for  every  human  being  under  the  sun.  Come,  send  up 
your  tumbler  ; Fll  mix  it  for  you.  There^s  Madeira  and 
Claret  on  the  sideboard,  and  I wouldn^t  give  a brass  but- 
ton for  oceans  of  it,  while  there^s  a drop  of  this  real  old 
Irish  whiskey  here  to  soften  my  heart.  By  George,  sir, 
if  you  only  drank  it  for  six  months,  it  would  make  a man 
of  you.^^ 

Humph  ! guess  it  would  — the  wrong  way.^^ 

''No,  sir,  but  the  right  way.  It  would  cure  you  of 
that  passion  you  have  for  speculating  and  money-making. 
It  would  make  your  heart  grow  twice  as  big  as  it  is  — 
ay,  big  enough,  by  George,  to  take  the  whole  human 
race  into  it.’^ 

"Well,  iFs  a fact,^^  said  Weeks,  "it  does  make  a 
feller  feel  kind  of  good  ; but  guess  it’s  not  to  be  trusted 
too  far,  either,  for  all  that.” 

" Never  fear.  Weeks,  never  fear ; you  go  on  with  the 
story,  and  Fll  mix  the  punch.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


265 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Mr,  Weeks  growSf  eloquent  after  the  second  Tumbler ^ and 
makes  a crack  Speech,  but  declines  a Duel . with  the 
Light-keeper  as  not  being  in  his  Line. 

Well/^  said  Weeks,  making  another  "start,  '^Zeph 
lived  at  a place  called  Pratt^s  Corner,  five  or  six  miles 
from  Ducksville.  She  was  kinder  related  to  us  somehow 
by  the  Bigelows,  and  mother  and  she  terrible  intimate. 
Zeph  used  to  invite  mother  to  prayer  meetings,  and 
mother,  in  return,  sent  Zeph  presents  of  apple-sass 
twice  a year  regular.  Well,  Zeph  got  to  be  consid- 
erable old,  you  know,  and  kinder  wrinkly  about  the 
nose,  and,  as  a matter  of  course,  pious  in  proportion 
— but  to  balance  the  wrinkles,  Zeph  had  the  cash.^^ 

Ho  ! ho  ! cried  the  captain,  did  the  wind  blow  from 
that  quarter 

She  had  two  sawmills  of  her  own,  and  some  twenty 
thousand  dollars  in  railroad  stocks  besides.  Well,  I 
made  up  my  mind  one  day  to  try  if  I couldn’t  induce 
Zeph  to  take  a partner  to  help  her  manage  her  busi- 
ness affairs,  and  forthwith  set  about'  making  the  ne- 
cessary preparations.  - 1 felt  kinder  green,  then,  you 
know,  in  the  religious  line,  and  so  thought  better 
attend  two  or  three  prayer  meetings  in  Ducksville  be- 
forehand, to  get  into  the  way  of  it,  like.’^ 

Capital  ! capital  ! ejaculated  the  captain. 

When  the  day  came  for  my  first  trial,  I shaved 
clean  as  the  razor  would  cut  it,  mounted  a black  suit 
and  half  yard  crape  on  my  hat,  and  then  put  for  Pratt’s 
Corner.  As  I entered  the  room.  Deacon  Lovejoy  was 
holding  forth  strong  against  the  old  pope,  (his  favorite 
theme  ;)  so,  slinking  in  with  a face  as  grave  as  I 
could  conveniently  command,  after  so  short  a practice, 
I took  my  seat  longside  Zeph,  without  seeming  to  notice 
who  was  in  it.'  After  the  deacon  resumed  his  chair, 
23 


266 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Zeph  turned  her  head  a leetle  mite  sideways,  and  siz 
she,  in  a low,  touching  voice,  ' 0 Mr.  Weeks,  how  I 
do  rejoice  to  see  you  at  last  among  the  servants  of  the 
Lord.^  ' Ah ! ^ said  I,  looking  up  in  her  face  kinder 
dreamy  like,  — ‘ Ah  ! how  pleasant  it  is  to  dwell  in  the 
assembly  of  the  faithful  — 0 dear  — ^ 

‘ YouVe  been  a wanderer,^  said  Zeph. 

' Alas  ! alas  ! I have,^  said  I,  looking  up  at  her 
again.  ^ IVe  been  a poor,  sinful  Tvanderer,  seeking 
for  the  waters  of  life  among  the  swamps  and  quag- 
mires of  a wicked  world  ; but  Heaven  be  praised,  the 
blessed  light  hath  come  at  last  to  guide  me  to  the  pure 
spring.^ 

'^Excellent!  capital ! shouted  the  captain,  rapping 
the  table  till  the  tumblers  rang  again.  ''Ha,  ha,  ha! 
by  Jove,  Weeks,  youYe  a clever  fellow.  Gentlemen, 
let  us  postpone  the  courtship  for  the  present ; I see 
the  ladies  coming  ; and  fill  your  glasses  — fill  them  up  ; 
bumpers  let  them  be  — nothing  less  than  bumpers. 
I give  you  Mr.  Weeks  and  the  stars  and  stripes  for- 
ever.^^ 

The  company  rose  and  drank  the  toast  with  a hip,  hip, 
hurrah  I and  nine  times  nine  ; and  Kate,  no  longer  able 
to  restrain  her  curiosity,  came  tripping  in  from  the 
drawing  room,  accompanied  by  half  a dozen  ladies, 
declaring  she  could  sit  no  longer  among  a parcel  of 
silly,  moping  girls,  with  such  distinguished  company 
in  the  house.  " Besides, she  added,  glancing  archly 
at  Mr.  Weeks,  I want  to  hear  a speech.  I^m  actually 
dying  to  hear  a speech  from  a citizen  of  the  great  re- 
public. 

" Gentlemen,  please  take  your  seats, said  Captain 
Petersham,  with  a wave  of  his  hand  ; "I  see  Mr.  Weeks 
is  about  to  speak.  As  for  you,  ladies,  youYe  a set 
of  saucy,  impudent  baggages  to  intrude  upon  us  here 
over  our  cups.^^ 

" Mr.  Weeks, " Mr.  Weeks, " Mr.  Weeks, was 
now  heard  from  all  parts  of  the  room. 

Ladies  and  gents, said  the  latter,  rising  slowly,  and 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


267 


running*  one  hand  into  his  vest  pocket,  while  he  rested 
the  other  on  the  table,  — ''ladies  and  gents,  I ain’t 
a-goin  to  make  a speech;  speech-making’s  not  in  my 
line.  But  I ain’t  a-goin  to  sit  silent,  either,  when  such 
honor  is  done  to  the  flag  of  my  country.  Ladies  and 
gents,  I’m  an  American  born,  of  the  true  blue  Puritan 
stock,  a citizen  of  the  model  republic  of  the  world.” 
["  Hear  ! hear  1 ”]  "I  ain’t  given  to  braggin  much,  I 
expect,  and  besides,  it  don’t  become  a foreigner  to  brag 
of  his  country  in  a strange  land  ; but  speaking  as  this 
here  gent  and  I were  (turning  to  Father  John)  about 
religion,  I ain’t  afraid  to  assert  that  you  can’t  find,  in 
all  creation,  a class  of  men  professing  more  enlarged  and 
liberal  views  of  religion  than  the  merchants  and  traders 
of  New  England. 

" We  are  liberal  in  all  things  where  conscience  merely 
is  concerned,  and  conservative  only  with  a view  to  pre- 
serve order  in  society,  that  trade  may  flourish  under  its 
protection.  Yes,  ladies  and  gents,  whatever  tends  to 
cripple  trade  or  impede  the  progress  of  social  advance- 
ment, whether  it  be  a new  theory  or  an  old  theory,  a 
new  creed  or  an  old  creed,  we  strangle  it.  We  strangle 
it  as  the  heathens  in  olden  times  used  to  strangle  deformed 
children.  Business  men  in  our  country  ain’t  so  very  par- 
ticular as  to  difference  in  religious  denomination.  They 
don’t  care  much  whether  the  creed  be  Orthodox,  Univer- 
salist.  Episcopalian,  or  Baptist,  if  it  only  gives  free 
scope  to  intellect,  and  a clear  track  for  human  progress. 
There’s  but  one  creed  they  object  to  ; and  that  is  — Ex- 
cuse me,  friend,”  said  the  speaker,  turning  to  the  priest 
— ‘'that  is  the  Roman  Catholic.  ["Hear  him  I hear 
him  ! ” cried  Captain  Petersham  ; "that’s  the  kind  of  talk 
I like.”  " Hear  him  ! hear  him  ! ” echoed  half  a dozen 
others,  following  the  lead.]  Well,  the  fact  is,  ladies  and 
gents,  they  can’t  go  that  kinder  doctrine,  no  how ; it 
tightens  them  up  so  they  can’t  move  one  way  or  other. 
The  laws  and  rules  of  the  Catholic  church  hain’t  got 
no  joints  in  ’em;  you  can’t  bend  ’em  no  shape  or  form. 
Then  they  have  what  they  call  ' confession  ; ’ and  if  one 


268 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


of  their  society  happens  to  speculate  beyond  his  means, 
the  priest  brings  him  right  chock  up  for  it ; so  he  hain^t 
got  no  chance  to  risk  any  thing  in  the  way  of  trade,  no 
how  he  can  fix  it.  Again,  if  a Catholic  happens  to  find 
a pocket  book,  for  instance,  with  five  or  six  thousand 
dollars  in  it,  he  must  restore  it  to  the  owner  right 
straight  off,  when,  by  waiting  for  twelve  months  or  so,  he 
might  make  a few  hundreds  by  the  use  of  it  to  start 
him  in  business.  Such  a creed  as  that,  ladies  and  gents, 
no  true  American  can  tolerate.  Well  — he  wouldn’t 
deserve  the  name  of  a freeman  if  he  did.  The  question 
for  Americans  is,  not  whether  any  particular  form  of  re- 
ligion be  young  or  old,  true  or  false,  divine  or  human, 
but  whether  it  suits  the  genius  of  the  country  ; that’s 
the  question  — the  only  question  — to  decide.  Our 
country  is  young,  ladies  and  gents  ; she  has  done  little 
more,  as  yet,  than  just  begun  to  develop  her  re- 
sources — the  greatest  resources  of  any  nation  through- 
out all  universal  space  ; and  we  feel  it’s  our  best  policy 
to  moderate  the  rigors  of  the  gospel  — to  temper  it,  as 
it  were  — well,  to  make  it  as  little  exacting  as  possible. 
Hence  our  ministers,  as  a general  thing,  especially  in 
cities  and  large  towns,  seldom  preach  about  sin,  or  hell, 
or  the  ten  commandments,  or  that  kinder  subjects,  be- 
cause such  themes  are  calculated  to  disturb  and  perplex 
business  men,  to  the  injury  of  trade.  And  we  have 
long  made  up  our  minds  that  trade  must  be  cared  for, 
whatever  else  suffers.  Yes,  ladies  and  gents,”  con- 
tinued the  speaker,  growing  more  animated  as  the  old 
Innishowen  began  to  warm  up  his  blood,  our  country 
is  bound  to  go  ahead  of  every  other  country  in  crea- 
tion. Excuse  me,  ladies  and  gents,  for  speaking  my 
sentiments  right  out  on  the  subject ; but  they  are  my 
sentiments  and  the  sentiments  of  every  native  born 
American.” 

Bravo,  bravo,  Weeks  ! ” cried  the  captain  ; his  fat 
sides  shaking  as  he  clapped  his  hands.  Bravo  ^ — that’s 
the  talk.” 

Yes,”  continued  Weeks,  ''  I’m  a Yankee,  and  them 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


269 


sentiments  are  true  blue  Yankee  sentiments.  We  ain^t 
a-goin  to  be  fettered  by  any  form  of  religion  under  the 
sun  ; if  it  don^t  encourage  trade  and  commerce  it  don^t 
suit  us  — that^s  the  hull  amount  of  it.  Had  the  United 
States  hung  on  to  the  old  worn-out  creeds  of  Europe, 
what  should  our  people  be  now  ? — perhaps  in  no  better 
condition  than  yourselves,  ladies  and  gents,  at  this  pres- 
ent moment. 

That^s  cool/^  muttered  some  one  in  an  under  tone. 

It^s  a fact,  nevertheless,^^  said  Weeks,  catching  the 
words.  The  antiquated  religion  of  our  grandfathers 
would  have  acted  like  a strait-jacket  on  the  nation, 
cramping  its  energies  and  stinting  its  growth.  Had 
we  not  shaken  ourselves  free  from  the  trammels  both 
of  pilgrim  and  priestly  rules,  could  we  have  become  in 
so  short  a period  so  intelligent,  enterprising,  and  power- 
ful a nation  ? Yes,  ladies  and  gents,  could  we  have 
flung  our  right  arm  across  the  Gulf,  and  laid  hold  of 
Mexico  by  the  hair  of  the  head,  as  we  do  now,  and  be 
ready  to  extend  our  left  over  your  British  American 
possessions,  at  any  day  or  hour  we  please  to  take  the 
trouble,  and  sweep  them  into  our  lap  ? I ask,  ladies  and 
gents,  could  we  have  done  that? 

Hurrah  ! shouted  the  captain — capital  I glo- 
rious ! 

''  I don’t  profess,  ladies  and  gents,”  still  continued 
Weeks,  to  belong  to  any  particular  religious  denomina- 
tion myself.  My  creed  is,  ' a first  cause  and  thq  perfec- 
tibility of  man  : ’ that’s  the  length,  breadth,  and  thick- 
ness of  my  religious  belief,  and  I stand  on  that  platform 
firm  and  flat-footed.  Still,  I go  in  for  three  things  in  the 
religious  line,  as  strong  as  any  man  — almshouses, 
observance  of  the  Sabbath,  and  reading  the  Bible. 
These  are  excellent  things  in  their  way,  and . ought  to 
be  encouraged  by  every  man  who  loves  order  and  likes 
to  see  trade  flourish.  But  I can  go  no  further ; I 
can  never  believe,  sir,  (turning  to  the  priest,)  that  the 
Founder  of  Christianity  intended  a nation  so  intelligent, 
so  intellectual,  and  so  civilized  as  ours,  should  be  bound 
23* 


270 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


down  hand  and  foot  by  the  strict  rules  of  the  gospel. 
No,  sir  ; he  intended  we  should  moderate  and  adapt 
them  as  far  as  possible  to  the  interests  of  the  state  and 
the  requirements  of  society.  With  these  ideas  and  these 
principles,  ladies  and  gents,  we  are  bound  to  go  ahead  — 
we  must  go  ahead  — we  canH  help  it  — prosperity  forces 
itself  upon  us  — we  on  our  part  have  only  ' to  clear  the 
track  ^ for  it.  Nothing  can  bar  our  progress,  for  our 
destiny  is  universal  empire.  Nothing  can  stop  our  course 
— - no  obstacle,  moral  or  physical,  on  earth  or  air,  on  sea 
or  land.  Yes,  our  energies  are  immense,  and  must  be 
expended.  Ladies  and  gents,  were  it  necessary  to  bore 
the  earth  through,  we  should  do  it.  Yes,  by  crackie, 
tunnel  almighty  creation  to  find  an  outlet  for  our  re- 
sources.^^ 

Glorious,  glorious  ! shouted  the  captain  ; hurrah  ! 
for  the  stars  and  stripes  ! Well  done.  Weeks  ; bravo, 
bravo  ! my  boy.^^ 

And  Bravo,  bravo  I echoed  from  all  parts  of  the 
room  ; even  the  ladies  stood  up  and  waved  their  pocket 
handkerchiefs.  In  the  midst  of  this  general  acclama- 
tion, however,  and  just  as  Mr.  Weeks  had  hitched  up  his 
shoulders  for  another  start,  a loud,  piercing  shriek  came 
from  the  entrance  hall,  which  startled  and  silenced  the 
noisy  company  in  an  instant. 

What  the  fury  is  that  ? demanded  the  captain. 

Ho,  there,  James,  Thomas — go  instantly  and  see  what 
that  noi^e  means. 

Kate  rushed  to  the  door,  followed  by  the  other  ladies, 
curious  to  learn  what  had  happened  ; and  the  gentle- 
men, fearing  some  serious  accident,  darted  out  pell-mell 
after  them. 

Who  the  mischief  are  you  ? growled  Captain 
Petersham,  grasping  a tall,  grave-looking  man  by  the 
arm,  as  he  hurried  out  from  the  parlor.  ''  Who  the  mis- 
chief are  you,  fellow  ? 

Pardon  me,  sir,’^  replied  the  stranger  in  the  mildest 
manner  possible  ; my  name  is  Sweetsoul.  I came 
with  — 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


271 


Who  ! what!  the  colporteur!  the  Methodist  Bible- 
reader ! 

""  The  same,  sir/' 

And  what  do  jou  want  here,  sir  ? " 

''  Excuse  me,  sir,  I — " 

'"I  shan't  excuse  you,  sir;  you  have  no  business  in 
my  house,  you  canting  rascal ; out  of  it  instantly." 

''  But  the  lady  there,  sir." 

''  Lady,  what  lady  ? " 

Hush,  hush  ! brother  Tom,"  whispered  Kate,  catch- 
ing him  by  the  button-hole,  and  whispering  in  his  ear ; 
'^it's  Baby  Deb." 

''  What,  one  of  the  Hard  wrinkles  ? " 

'^Yes,  yes,"  she  replied,  convulsed  with  laughter; 
''  her  sister  Rebecca  — ha,  ha,  ha  ! — her  sister  Rebecca 
— ha,  ha  ! " 

Cease  your  folly,  Kate,  and  tell  me." 

Well,  she's  — ha,  ha  ! — gone  off  with  — " 

Eloped  ? " 

''  Yes,  fled  away  with  — . 0,  dear  ! " 

''  Rebecca  Hard  wrinkle  eloped  ? Nonsense,  Kate, 
you're  only  fooling  me." 

It's  a positive  fact,"  said  the  light-hearted,  mischief- 
loving  girl  — ''  ask  Baby  Deb,  there,  if  you  don't  believe 
me." 

'^0,  dear!  0,  dear!"  cried  the  latter,  clapping  her 
hands  ; she's  gone  ! she's  gone  ! " 

Well,  there,"  ejaculated  Weeks,  when  he  heard  what 
had  taken  place,  ''  there  ! eloped  ! if  that  ain't  going  it 
strong,  I don't  know  what  is.  By  thunder,  if  this  ain't 
the  most  infernal  country  — " 

Miss  Hardwrinkle,"  said  the  captain,  kindly  taking 
the  disconsolate  young  lady  by  the  arm,  let  me  conduct 
you  to  Aunt  Willoughby's  room.  And  tell  me  as  we  go 
how  all  this  happened." 

''  Won't  you  send  the  police  in  search  of  her,  captain  ? 
I came  all  the  way  with  Mr.  Sweetsoul  to  entreat  you  to 
send  them." 


272 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Certainly,  certainly,  my  dear  young  lady,  I shall  do 
so  forthwith  ; but  how  did  it  happen  ? 

Why,  a man  came  to  the  house  in  Ballymagahey, 
where  we  had  been  distributing  tracts,  and  told  Rebecca 
a dying  woman  wanted  to  see  her  immediately,  and 
have  some  spiritual  conversation  with  her  before  she 
departed.’^ 

Humph  ! I see  ; well  ? 

Well,  poor  Rebecca! — you  know,  captain,  how 
eagerly  she  thirsted  for  the  salvation  of  souls  — 

''Yes,  yes,  I know  all  that  — well  ? ’’ 

The  instant  the  man  delivered  the  message,  she 
started  off  as  quickly  as  if — 

" Yes,  of  course  — I understand  you  ; well  ? 

" Her  holy  zeal,  you  know' — ’’ 

" Never  mind  her  zeal.  What  the  fury  have  I to  do 
with  her  zeal  — excuse  me.  Miss  Hard  wrinkle,  but  can^t 
you  tell  me  how  she  was  carried  off'  at  once  ? 

"0,  dear!  you  hurry  me  so  — and  then  Fm  almost 
dead  with  the  fright.^^ 

" Listen  to  me  — did  you  see  her  carried  off? 

" See  her  ? 

" Yes,  yes,  did  you  actually  see  her  ? 

" With  my  own  eyes.^^ 

" Then  how  was  she  carried  off?  ’’ 

" Behind  a man  ! 0,  dear  ! 0,  dear  ! 

" Behind  a man  ? 

" Yes  ; on  — a — on  — a Here  Deborah  tried  to 
blush  and  cover  her  face. 

" Confound  it,  on  what  ? ’’  roared  the  captain,  losing 
patience  altogether.  "Can^t  you  speak  at  once  if  you 
wish  me  to  take  measures  for  your  sister^s  recovery  ? 
How  did  he  carry  her  off? 

" On  a — on  a — 0,  dear,  on  a pillion  ! behind  him.^^ 

" Phew  ! on  a pillion  ! Ha,  ha ! By  the  Lord  Harry, 
that  was  a sight. 

" It  was  shocking — in  broad  daylight  too  ; 0,  dear  ! 

"It  was  villanous,^’  said  the  captain,  endeavoring  to 
smother  a laugh — "most  atrocious!  to  carry  such  a 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


273 


saintly  young  lady,  and  one  so  reserved  in  all  her  habits 
of  life,  over  the  open  country  in  broad  daylight,  on  a pil- 
lion. S Meath  ! the  scoundrel  should  be  hung  for  it.’^ 

And  0,  captain/^  said  Deborah,  ''  I can  never  forget 
the  terrific  shriek  she  gave,  as  she  flew  past  me  behind 
the  inhuman  wretch.  It  still  rings  in  my  ears  — it  was 
heart-rending.’^ 

Who  could  have  played  this  trick,  Kate  ? ” said  the 
captain,  turning  to  his  sister;  eh  — what  does  it  mean  ? 

— I confess  I don’t  understand  it.” 

And  how  can  I ? ” replied  Kate,  covering  her  face 
with  her  handkerchief;  how  can  I,  if  you  don’t  ? ” 

Kate  ! ” 

''  What  ? ” 

Look  up.” 

There  — what’s  the  matter  ? ” 

This  is  some  of  your  devilry.” 

''  Mine ! ” 

''  Yours.  Come  ! come  ! no  evasion  now  ; you’re  in 
the  plot,  whatever  it  is,  as  sure  as  your  name’s  Kate  Pe- 
tersham. It’s  exactly  like  you — you  needn’t  try  to  look 
serious.” 

Why,  brother  Tom  ! ” 

"'Psaugh  — brother  Tom  I — that  won’t  do,  Kate.  I 
vow  to  Heaven,  you’re  the  most  mischievous  — but  stop 

— wait  a minute,”  he  added,  as  a sudden  thought  seemed 
to  strike  him.  Miss  Hardwrinkle,”  said  he,  again  ap- 
proaching the  afflicted  j^’oung  lady,  Miss  Hardwrinkle, 
do  you  remember  to  have  seen  the  man  before  ? ” 

What,  the  wretch  who  — ? ” 

''Yes  — have  you  any  recollection  of  seeing  him  be- 
fore ? ” 

" No  ; for  I could  see  nothing  but  his  form,  he  flew  by 
so  fast ; and  besides,  he  kept  whipping  the  wretched  ani- 
mal so  dreadfully  all  the  time.” 

"'He,  he,  he!”  chuckled  Uncle  Jerr}’^  to  himself  all 
alone  on  the  sofa ; "it  must  have  been  an  amusing 
sight.” 

" You’re  a barbarous  man,”  said  Kate,  overhearing  the 


274 


MARY  LEE,'  OR 


words  as  she  passed  him  by  — you^re  a barbarous  man 
to  say  so/^ 

^^0,  you  young  trickster/^  exclaimed  Uncle  Jerry,  shak- 
ing his  finger  at  her  as  she  turned  back  her  laughing  eyes 
upon  him  ; ''the  plot  is  of  your  making,  as  sure  as  the 
sun/^ 

" What  was  the  color  of  his  clothes  ? again  inquired 
the  captain  ; " or  did  you  see  any  thing  remarkable  in 
his  form  or  appearance  ? 

" Nothing  — I could  see  nothing  distinctly,  except  that 
he  wore  a cap/^ 

" A cap  — what  kind  of  cap  ? — black  or  blue  ? 

"No.  I rather  think,^’  replied  Deborah,  "it  was  a 
sort  of  fur  cap  ; it  looked  rough  rather,  and  somewhat 
high  in  the  crown. 

" Whitish  ? 

" Yes.  Something  like  a hare  or  rabbit-skin  cap.^^ 

"ThaUs  enough  ! exclaimed  the  captain,  "that^s  quite 
enough  ; I know  the  villain  ! I know  him  ! — I suspected 
who  he  was  from  the  beginning ; he’s  the  most  daring, 
impudent,  reckless  rascal,  that,  in  all  Christendom.” 

" Who  is  he  — who  is  he  ? ” demanded  half  a dozen 
together. 

" Lanty  Hanlon,  of  course ; who  else  could  he  be  ? 
No  man  but  Lanty  in  the  three  baronies  would  dare  play 
such  a trick.” 

"Lanty  Hanlon,”  screamed  Baby  Deb,  in  semi-hys- 
terics ; " 0,  my  gracious  ! ” 

" Don’t  be  alarmed,”  said  the  captain  ; "your  sister’s 
in  safe  hands.” 

" 0,  no,  no,  captain  ; that  man  will  murder  her  1 ” 

" Not  he  ; nor  hurt  a hair  of  her  head,  either.” 

" Why,  you  surely  mistake,  captain,”  said  several  of 
the  company.  " Lanty  Hanlon’s  the  most  notorious  rob- 
ber and  wrangler  in  the  whole  neighborhood.” 

" I can  show  you  a wound  he  gave  me  here  on  the  top 
of  my  head,  captain,”  said  the  colporteur,  sneaking  into 
the  room. 

"What,  you!  Out  of  my  house,  you  scurvy  vaga- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


275 


bond/^  shouted  the  burly  captain,  collaring  the  Bible- 
reader,  and  sending'  him  head-foremost  from  the  room. 
*‘110,  there,  fellows,  James,  Thomas,  bundle  out  that 
snivelling  rascal.  By  the  Lord  Harry,  if  he  come  in  my 
sight  again,  1^11  horsewhip  him.^^ 

**  Well,  but,  captain,  you  must  be  mistaken  about  this 
Hanlon,’^  said  one  ; **it  was  he  beat  my  game-keeper.^^ 

**The  same  fellow  robbed  my  salmon  box,^^  said 
another. 

**  And  poached  on  my  premises,’^  said  a third. 

**Yes,  and  by  crackie,  it  was  that  tarnation  villain 
drugged  me  first  with  poteen  whiskey,  and  then  danced 
me  to  death,  at  the  wedding,^^  put  in  Weeks.  **He^s 
the  most  provoking  rascal,  too,  1 ever  met,  for  he  keeps 
as  cool  as  a cucumber  all  the  while.’’ 

**  Gentlemen,”  said  the  captain,  **you  may  say  what 
you  please  of  Lanty  Hanlon,  and  think  what  you  please, 
too,  but  1 know  him  better  than  the  whole  kit  of  you  put 
together ; and  by  the  Lord  Harry,  he’s  one  of  the  best 
specimens  of  his  class  I ever  saw.  He’s  an  honest- 
hearted,  reckless,  rollicking,  light-hearted  Irishman,  who 
likes  his  bit  of  fun  as  well  as  the  best  of  us,  and  will  have 
it  if  he  can ; but  tell  me  the  man  ever  knew  Lanty  to  do 
a mean  thing.  He  may  have  speared  your  salmon,  and 
shot  your  game,  and  broken  your  bailiffs’  heads  ; but 
where’s  the  harm  in  that?  Can  you  call  it  a crime  to  kill 
the  trout  that  swims  in  the  mountain  brooks,  or  the  black 
cock  that  feeds  on  the  mountain  heather  ? What  right 
have  you  to  forbid  a man  to  catch  the  trout  that  jumps 
ill  the  stream  before  his  own  door,  or  kill  the  game  that 
feeds  on  his  own  pasture  ? May  the  devil  take  such  game 
laws,  say  I,  and  may  the  man  that  respects  them  never 
know  the  taste  of  a white  trout  at  breakfast,  or  a black 
cock  at  supper.  As  for  you,  Mr.  Weeks,  you  must  have 
said  or  done  something  to  provoke  Lanty,  or  he  never 
had  put  you  through  the  coarse  hackle  in  that  way.  Be- 
sides, you  didn’t  matriculate  here  yet  ; you’re  green  in 
the  country.” 


276 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Gentleman  wishes  to  see  Mr.  Weeks/^  said  a ser- 
vant, interrupting  the  speaker. 

Mr.  Weeks  followed,  and  was  conducted  to  the  break- 
fast parlor.  As  the  door  opened,  the  visitor  advanced  to 
meet  him,  with  an  open  letter  in  his  hand. 

''Ha!  Mr.  Lee,  glad  to  see  you,  sir  — how  d^ye 
do  ? 

" Good  evening,  sir,^^  replied  the  light-keeper,  stiffly. 
" Pra3%  Mr.  Weeks,  is  this  your  handwriting? 

" My  handwriting  ? 

"Yes,  sir;  Miss  Lee  received  that  letter  this  morning 
through  Tamny  post  office  ; it  bears  your  signature.’^ 

" Why,  what^s  the  trouble  ? ’^ 

" Do  you  acknowledge  it  yours,  sir  ? 

"Well,  yes,  I reckon  so;  whaPs  the  matter?  you 
seem  kinder  put  out  about  it.^^ 

"Mr.  Weeks, said  the  light-keeper,  "you  have  man- 
aged in  some  way  to  get  hold  of  ray  note  of  hand  ; may 
I now  ask  how  you  came  to  know  of  the  existence  of 
such  a paper — or  was  it  through  Mr.  Robert  Hard- 
wrinkle  you  discovered  it?^’ 

Weeks  bowed  his  assent. 

" Ah,  I thought  so.  Well,  sir,  having  bribed  an  old 
woman  to  play  the  black-foot  between  you  and  my  niece. 
Miss  Lee,  and  not  having  succeeded  as  soon  as  you 
anticipated,  you  directed  your  attorney  to  mark  a writ 
against  me  for  debt ; and  now,  at  the  heels  of  the  writ. 
Miss  Lee  receives  that  letter,  making  her  proposals  of 
marriage,  and  assuring  her  at  the  same  time  of  an  account 
at  your  banker^s  of  a hundred  thousand  dollars.  What 
does  this  mean,  sir  ? 

" It  ain^t  the  first  letter,  I guess  — is  it  ? 

"Not  the  first  you  sent,  sir,  but  the  first  came  to  her 
hands. 

" Shoh  ! you  don’t  say  so  ! That  infernal  she  devil 
then  has  played  me  false  — well,  there  I Tarnation  seize 
the  whole  darned  pack  — ” 

" Hold,  sir.  Did  you  or  did  you  not  take  out  this  writ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


277 


against  my  body  with  a view  to  compel  Miss  Lee  to 
marry  you  ? 

''  How^s  that  ? muttered  Weeks,  affecting  not  to 
understand  the  question. 

'' Answer  me,  yes  or  no,’^  said  the  light-keeper;  I 
have  no  time  to  spare. 

''  Look  here,  friend  ; I ain^t  a-goin  to  be  catechised 
this  fashion. 

''  Catechised — by  all  the  gods  in  Olympus,  Fll  cate- 
chise you,  my  fine  fellow,  and  the  right  way,  too.  Your 
villany’s  discovered  at  last,  sir.  Else  Curley  has  re- 
vealed to  me  all  your  plots  and  schemes. 

Well,  but  you  needn^t  get  into  such  a fuss  about  it, 
my  dear  man,^^  responded  Weeks,  quite  coolly ; if  you 
ain’t  disposed  to  let  me  have  the  girl,  why  don’t,  that’s 
all ; but  you’ve  got  to  pay  the  face  of  the  notes,  or  go 
to  jail  — ” 

Scoundrel,  let  you  have  the  girl ! ” 

Ain’t  I good  enough  for  her  ? ” 

You!  ” 

‘^Why,  yes.  I’m  an  American  born  — good  enough, 
I reckon,  for  the  best  Irish  girl  ever  stood  in  shoe  leather 
— all-fired  proud  as  they  are.” 

And  why  didn’t  you  ask  her  like  a man,  if  you 
thought  so  ? No,  you  hadn’t  the  courage,  sir.  Your 
meanness  of  soul  wouldn’t  let  you.  You  preferred  to 
scheme  and  plot  with  Else  Curley,  and  to  sneak  about 
my  house  day  after  day  like  a hungry  spaniel.  By 
George,  if  I suspected  what  brought  you  there  when  you 
first  came,  I’d  have  flung  you  neck  and  heels  into  the 
Devil’s  Gulch.  What ! because  I’m  poor,  you  tried  to 
compel  my  niece  to  marry  you  through  fear  of  my  incar- 
ceration. Begone,  sir  ! let  me  never  see  you  within  a 
league  of  the  lighthouse  again,  or  if  you  do,  I’ll  horse- 
whip you  as  I would  a dog.” 

Say,  don’t  get  into  such  a fury  about  it.” 

Fury  ! ” repeated  the  light-keeper,  buttoning  up  his 
coat,  and  darting  a look  at  the  crest-fallen  Yankee  so  full 
of  contempt  that  the  latter  cowered  under  it.  ''  Baugh, 
24 


278 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


sir,^^  he  added,  ''you’re  beneath  my  scorn.  Had  you 
the  slightest  pretension  to  the  character  of  a gentleman, 
I should  have  compelled  you  before  I left  this  room  to 
apologize  for  the  insult  you  offered  — but  coxcomb  and 
a coward  as  you  are,  I let  you  pass.’’ 

"Coward!  guess  you’re  mistaken  — ain’t  you?”  re- 
plied Weeks,  shoving  his  hands  down  into  his  breeches 
pockets,  and  hitching  up  his  shoulders. 

" You’re  a disgrace,  sir,  to  the  name  of  America,” 
continued  the  light-keeper,  without  noticing  the  reply. 
" Your  country  is  a noble  country,  sir;  your  heroes  of 
the  revolution  rank  among  the  first  soldiers  of  the  world  ; 
your  orators  and  statesmen  have  already  eclipsed  some 
of  the  first  celebrities  of  Europe  ; your  people,  in  the 
main,  are  a high-minded,  generous  people  ; but  you,  sir, 
and  such  sneaking  rascals  as  you,  with  your  godless  lib- 
eralism, and  your  national  vanity,  are  enough  to  bring 
your  country  into  contempt  wherever  you  go.  I have 
loved  America  ever  since  I was  able  to  lisp  the  name  ; 
but  if  you  be  a fair  specimen  of  your  countrymen,  1 
would  rather  be  a dog  than  an  American.  If  you’re  a 
Yankee,  the  New  Englanders  must  have  sadly  degener- 
ated since  the  revolution.  Go,  go  I ” 

"Well,”  said  Weeks,  "can’t  say  as  to  that;  but  I 
rather  guess  they’re  a leetle  ahead  of  the  Irish  yet.” 

" Yes  ; you  and  such  as  you,  in  vending  hickory  hams 
and  wooden  nutmegs,  may  be  somewhat  smarter,  I sup- 
pose. But  smartness,  without  either  honor  or  principle, 
is  a poor  recommendation.  Go  home,  sir,  go  home  again, 
and  tell  your  countrymen  — that  class  of  them  at  least 
to  which  you  belong — that  hucksters  and  speculators 
are  less  respected  here  in  Europe  for  their  smartness, 
than  despised  for  their  love  of  gold.  Tell  them  3^ou 
failed  in  your  own  speculation  in  matrimony,  because 
you  relied  too  much  on  your  low  cunning,  and  valued  too 
lightly  the  character  of  the  people  on  whose  simplicity 
you  came  to  practise.  Tell  them  you  saw  in  Ireland  a 
poor  man  proud  — bankrupt  in  every  thing  but  honor  — 
who,  reduced  to  beggary  and  a jail,  would  rather  see  his 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


279 


child  mated  with  the  poorest  peasant  on  his  native  hills, 
than  give  her  to  a peddling,  speculating  foreigner,  with 
a hundred  thousand  dollars  at  his  banker’s.  There,  sir,’’ 
he  added,  flinging  the  letter  in  Weeks’s  face,  take 
back  your  vile  proposal,  and  begone.  I came  with  a 
brace  of  pistols  here  in  my  breast,  to  demand  the  satis- 
faction due  from  one  gentleman  to  another  ; but  you’re 
too  contemptible  a scoundrel  to  smell  an  honest  man’s 
powder  ; ” and  so  saying  the  light-keeper  flung  on  his 
slouched  hat  and  left  the  room. 

Weeks  stood  full  three  minutes  gazing  at  the  door 
through  which  the  light-keeper  passed,  without  moving 
a muscle  — his  hands,  as  usual,  thrust  into  his  pockets. 
He  seemed  completely  confounded  at  what  had  taken 
place.  ^MVell,  there,”  he  ejaculated  at  length,  throw- 
ing himself  down  in  an  arm  chair  and  taking  out  his  pen- 
knife to  whittle  a small  mahogany  rule  that  lay  beside 
him  on  the  table,  apparently  without  the  least  conscious- 
ness of  what  he  was  doing  — there,  that’s  the  end  of 
it,  I reckon.  Humph  ! well,  Mr.  Charles  B.  Bigelow,  or 
rather  I should  say,  Mr.  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks  — since 
that’s  the  name  you  have  chosen  for  the  present  — I think 
you  ought  to  feel  kinder  cheap  — eh  I four  hundred  dol- 
lars lost  for  spells  and  charms  — that  is,  considering  the 
sort  of  bills  they  were  — not  to  speak  of  what  the  note 
cost  me  — and  fooled  into  the  bargain.  Go  it,  go  it,  my 
hoy,  — that’s  the  way  to  make  a fortune  out  of  the  igno- 
rant Irish.  Well,  I’m  in  a fix,  that’s  a fact  — a tarna- 
tion ugly  fix,  too.  0 Else  Curley,  out  of  h — 11  there’s 
no  such  woman  as  you.  I reckoned  I was  pretty  smart 
myself,  but  I guess  you’re  a leetle  mite  smarter. 
Humph  ! of  some  twenty  love-letters,  the  girl  has  re- 
ceived but  one,  and  that’s  the  very  one  I mailed  myself 
at  tlie  post  office.  And  there’s  that  darned  cabin  boy  — 
only  for  him  I might  get  along  slick  enough  yet  ; for 
come  to  get  the  light-keeper  into  jail.  Cousin  Robert  and 
I could  manage  to  carry  off*  the  girl  somehow.  But  the 
boy,  if  he  recover,  will  reveal  all,  and  then  the  whole 
secret  is  blown.  Sambo  says  he’ll  go  down  to  the  light- 


280 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


house  to-night  and  demand  the  young  scamp  — and 
Cousin  Robert  promises  to  send  a constable  with  him  to 
enforce  his  right  of  guardianship  — but  should  he  blab 
the  secret  before  they  reach  him,  I must  put  for  Ducks- 
ville  right  straight  off.  As  it  is,  Fm  cornered  up  rather 
close  to  feel  comfortable.  0,  Ireland,  Ireland  — could  I 
once  get  off  with  this  girl  under  my  arm,  I should  advise 
every  stranger  that  values  his  life  to  keep  clear  of  you  a 
day^s  sailing  at  least.^^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


281 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Else  and  Mary.  — The  Solitary  and  her  Foster-child. 

The  reader  will  recollect  that  when  Kate  Petersham 
parted  with  Mary  Lee  at  the  steps,  the  latter  looked 
somewhat  alarmed  at  the  serious  tone  in  which  her  light- 
hearted friend  begged  her  to  remember  Randall  Barry 
that  night  in  her  prayers.  She  made  an  effort,  in  fact,  to 
detain  Kate  for  an  explanation ; but  Kate  eluded  her 
grasp,  and  bounded  down  the  steps,  the  moment  she  ut- 
tered the  words,  with  the  fleetness  and  agility  of  a fairy. 

On  her  return  to  the  sick  room,  the  agitated  girl  found 
Else  seated  on  a low  stool  beside  the  little  cabin  boy^s 
bed,  knitting  her  stocking. 

What  ails  ye,  dear  ? said  the  latter,  with  a tender- 
ness of  look  and  tone  she  seldom  betrayed  even  to  her 
favorite.  What  ails  ye,  Mary  ? yer  so  pale.’^ 

Pale  I am  I pale  ? 

''  Yer  as  pale  as  a ghost,  dear  — whaPs  the  matther  ? 

'' Nothing.  But  come  to  my  room  — I have  some- 
thing to  ask  you.  We  mustn^t  disturb  our  little  patient, 
you  know.  How  is  he  now.  Else  ? 

Better.’^ 

YouYe  sure  ? 

Sure  as  can  be,  dear  — he^s  recoverin  fast.  He  got 
the  cool  [crisis]  this  morning,  an  his  pulPs  quieter  now.^^ 

''Thank  God,  exclaimed  the  grateful  girl,  with  all 
the  fervor  of  her  pure  loving  heart.  " 0,  I knew  well 
the  Blessed  Virgin  wouldn^t  forget  him.  Her  interces- 
sion has  saved  him.  Poor  little  fellow,  he^ll  see  home 
and  friends  once  more.  Won’t  he.  Else  ? ” 

" Hope  so.” 

" But,  Else  ! ” 

" What  ? ” 

"You  have  a secret  for  me.” 

" A secret  ? ” 


24* 


282 


MAKY  LEE,  OE 


Yes  ; I saw  it  in  Miss  Petersham’s  face,  and  I see  it 
now  in  yours.  You  needn’t  try  to  keep  it  from  me,  Else. 
Kandall  Barry’s  arrested.” 

Eandall  Barry!  Why,  what  in  the  world,  dear,  put 
that  in  your  head  ? ” 

'^Else,  you  needn’t  try  to  deceive  me.  I know  well  he’s 
taken.” 

And  what  if  he  is,  asthore?”  said  Else,  smoothing 
down  the  dishevelled  tresses  of  her  lovely  protegee  with 
her  hard,  bony  fingers,  whilst  the  muscles  of  her  own 
face  twitched  with  emotion  — what  if  he  is?  sure  it’s 
only  for  a day  or  two.  He’ll  soon  be  free  again.” 

Had  I only  taken  my  dear  uncle’s  advice,  and  told 
him  never  to  come  again,  this  had  never  happened.” 

And  didn’t  ye  tell  him  that  a hundred  times  ?” 

Yes  ; I told  him  often  how  my  uncle  loved  me,  and 
how  it  would  break  his  heart  if  I leave  him  — and  how 
little  I knew  of  the  world,  and  how  poor  a companion  I 
would  make  for  one  like  him.  I told  him  all  this  many 
and  many  a time.  Else,  and  begged  him  to  return  home 
to  the  south,  and  wait  for  better  and  happier  days  — but 
he  knew  my  heart  belied  my  words.” 

God  love  yer  innocent  heart,”  exclaimed  Else,  while 
her  old  eyes  filled  with  tears  ; God  love  ye,  dear  ; yer 
too  good  for  this  world.” 

Had  I only  prayed  fervently  to  God  for  strength,” 
continued  Mary,  I might  have  overcome  my  weakness. 
But  alas!  Else,  I’m  so  selfish;  I was  thinking  only  of  his 
love  for  me  all  the  time,  when  I should  have  thought  of 
nothing  but  his  safety.  And  he’s  now  a prisoner  on  my. 
account,  with  shackles  on  his  limbs,  and  the  doom  of 
the  rebel  before  him.  0,  if  I had  only  parted  with  him 
forever  the  last  time  he  clambered  up  these  rocks  to 
see  me.” 

'^And  if  ye  had,”  said  Else,  '^ye’d  have  nothin  for  it.” 
Ye  were  both  intended  for  one  another,  and  for  that  rai- 
son jQ  niver  cud  part  him.  So  take  heart  now,  and 
aR  ’ll  be  well  yit.’^ 

0 Kandall  Barry,  Randall  Barry  ! so  brave  — so  faith- 


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283 


f^l  — so  true  to  his  coimtiy  and  to  me/^  cried  the  dis- 
tressed girl.  ''  Else,  Else,  could  1 see  him  free  once 
more,  were  it  only  for  an  instant,  1 would  bid  him  fare- 
well forever,  should  my  heartstrings  break  in  the  parting.^^ 

There  was  a sense  of  desolation  in  tlie  words  or  the 
tones  of  Mary^s  voice  that  touched  the  old  woman  deeply. 
But  when  the  former  spoke  of  her  heart  breaking,  the 
very  idea  seemed  to  call  back  again  into  life  the  better 
and  holier  feelings  of  her  nature,  and  unable  to  control 
any  longer  the  emotion  that  agitated  her  soul,  the  old 
woman  flung  her  arms  around  the  neck  of  her  foster- 
child,  and  wept  over  her  like  a mother. 

''  God  forbid  ! God  forbid  ! asthore  machree,^^  she  cried, 

God  forbid  yer  hearted  break.  Barlin  ! darlin  ! why 
shud  it  ever  break  ? for  it^s  little  this  world  can  spare  a 
heart  like  yours.  0,  angel ! ye  don^t  know  what  yer 
heart  is,  or  what  yer  pure  innecint  soul  is  worth  to  a 
sinful  earth  like  this.  It’s  little  ye  know,  dear,  what  yer 
are.  Modest,  wee  crather,  yer  as  simple  and  bashful  as 
the  daizy  that  grows  undher  the  green  fern  by  the  moun- 
tain stranie;  no  one  sees  ye,  no  one  knows  ye,  no  one 
thinks  of  ye  down  here  in  the  black  bins  of  Araheera — 
but  I know  ye,  asthore,  I know  what  yer  heart  is  ; och,  och, 
it’s  I that  does,  ivery  pulse  of  it.  And  why  shudn’t  I, 
Mary,  darlin  ? wasn’t  it  these  withered  hands  tore  ye  from 
yer  dead  mother’s  arms,  here  among  the  rocks  ; wasn’t 
it  me  nursed  ye  on  ould  Nannie’s  milk,  and  rocked  ye  in 
yer  cradle  up  there  in  my  poor  cabin  on  the  Cairn.  I know 
what  the  valie  of  your  heart  is,  alanna.  An  to  spake  of 
it  brakin  for  Randall  Barry,  or  suflerin  one  minute’s  pain 
— niver,  niver,”  she  exclaimed,  suddenly  rising,  ^'niver, 
Mary,  while  I’m  livin  and  able  to  prevent  it.” 

The  change  in  Else’s  look  and  tone  was  quick  as 
thought.  For  a moment  her  heart  had  softened  under 
the  mesmeric  touch  of  the  angelic  being  she  embraced. 
But  it  was  only  for  a moment.  Again  the  dark  shadow 
came  rushing  back  upon  her  soul,  and  again  the  relaxed 
muscles  of  her  face  resumed  their  usual  hard  and  stern 
expression. 


284 


MARY  LEE,  OR 

Let  me  pass,  girl,^^  she  cried;  I have  work  to  do/^ 

What  work  ? 

No  matter  — let  me  pass/^ 

''  Else,  your  countenance  terrifies  me.  0,  I know  that 
dark,  awful  temptation  is  upon  you  again. 

''  Away,  child  ; take  your  hands  off  my  cloak  — I must 
be  gone.^^ 

What’s  your  purpose,  Else  ? ” 

Purpose  ! I niver  had  but  one  purpose  for  thirty 
years,  and  the  time  is  come  now  to  execute  it.” 

''You  shan’t  leave  me,”  said  Mary,  kneeling ; "you 
shan’t  leave  me.  Else,  till  you  promise  to  do  no  harm  to 
Eobert  Hard  wrinkle  or  his  family.” 

The  bid  woman  folded  her  arms  on  her  brown,  half- 
naked  breast,  and  looked  down  on  the  face  of  her 
foster-child. 

"Mary  Lee,”  she  said,  — her  voice  husky  with  the 
passion  she  strove  in  vain  to  conceal,  — " Mary  Lee,  yer 
tears  balked  me  of  my  vengeance  twiste  before  — take 
care  they  don’t  a third  time,  for  I swear  by — ” 

"Hush!  hush!  Else,”  interrupted  her  fair  proiegeey 
holding  up  the  crucifix  that  hung  suspended  from  her 
neck,  and  laying  her  forefinger  on  the  lips  of  the  figure. 
" Hush  ! these  lips  never  spoke  but  to  bless.” 

" Take  it  away,  girl ; take  it  away,”  cried  Else,  avert- 
ing her  eyes  from  the  image,  as  if  she  feared  to  look 
upon  it  lest  her  courage  should  fail ; "take  it  away,  and 
listen  to  me.  I’m  bound  by  a vow  made  at  the  siege  of 
Madeira,  by  the  side  of  my  dead  husban,  niver  to  forget 
what  Lieutenant  Eichard  Barry  did  for  me  that  day. 
Eandall  Barry  is  that  man’s  grandson,  and  he  now  lies  a 
prisiner  in  Tamny  barracks  through  the  threachery  of 
Eobert  Hardwrinkle.  The  time  is  come  to  fulfil  my 
promise,  and  I’ll  do  it ; I’ll  save  Eandall  Barry,  should  I 
lose  body  and  soul  in  the  attempt.” 

" Else,  Else,  this  is  impious,”  said  Mary;  ‘'remember 
there’s  a God  above  you.” 

" Paugh  !”  ejaculated  the  old  woman;  "I  knew  no 
God  these  thirty  years ; ” and  as  she  spoke  she  wrested 


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285 


Mary^s  hands  from  her  cloak,  and  caught  the  handle  of 
the  door.  Let  the  villain  luck  to  himself  now,^^  she 
cried  — let  him  and  them  that  brought  my  only  sister 
to  shame  and  an  early  grave,  — that  driv  my  brother 
from  his  father’s  hearthstone  to  die  among  the  strangers, 
— that  hunted  myself  like  the  brock  through  the  crags 
iv  Benraven  — hah  — let  them  luck  to  themselves  now, 
for  as  Heaven  hears  me,  if  Randall  Barry’s  not  a free 
man  in  four  and  twenty  hours,  their  roof  tree  smokes 
for  it.” 

Else,  stop  for  a moment.” 

Away,  girl ! ” 

Else,  Else,”  entreated  Mary,  again  attempting  to 
detain  her.  Would  you  commit  murder — deliberate 
murder  ? ” 

Murdher  I is  it  murdher  to  burn  a nest  of  vipers  ? ” 

Else,  think  for  a moment.  You  have  an  immortal 
soul  to  be  saved.” 

Me  ! I have  no  soul.  I lost  it  thirty  years  ago  — 
let  me  pass.” 

Listen  to  me.” 

No,  no,  no  ; I listened  to  you  too  long  — awaj^ ! ” 

''  Grant  me  but  one  favor.  It  may  be  the  last  I shall 
ever  ask  — for  I fear.  Else,  we  must  soon  fly  from  this 
place,  and  then  I can  never  hope  to  see  you  more.  Grant 
me  but  one  favor.” 

What’s  that  — mercy  to  the  Hardwrinkles  ? ” 

No,  dear  Else,  but  mercy  to  yourself — to  your  own 
soul,  dearer  to  me  than  the  wealth  of  worlds.  Here,” 
she  continued,  throwing  her  rosary  over  Else’s  neck, 
''tell  these  beads  to-night  before  you  sleep,  and  as  you 
pray,  fix  your  eyes  on  the  crucifix.” 

" Stop,  stop  ! ” exclaimed  the  old  woman,  her  face 
flushed  with  passion,  while  the  hood  of  her  cloak,  falling 
back  on  her  shoulders  and  revealing  her  gray  elf  locks, 
gave  her  the  look  of  a maniac.  " Stop  ! ” she  ejaculat- 
ed, repulsing  the  pious  and  affectionate  girl — " stop  ! I 
can’t  touch  this  blissid  thing.  Eh,  what  ? God  of 
heaven  ! what’s  this  ? ” 


286 


MABY  LEE,  OR 


''The  image  of  Christ/^  responded  Mary,  "whose  life 
was  one  continuous  act  of  love.  Look  at  those  arms 
extended  to  bless  and  forgive  the  whole  world,  and  tell 
me,  can  you  behold  the  image  of  that  dying  Saviour,  and 
yet  feel  so  hard-hearted  as  to  take  the  life  of  your  fellow- 
creature  ? 

" Whisht,  girl,  whisht,’^  said  Else,  sinking  back  on  a 
chair,  as  if  her  emotions  had  completely  overpowered 
her  ; " whisht ! and  tell  me,  whose  rosary  is  this  ? 

"Father  John^s  — he  lent  it  to  me  when  I lost  my 
mother’s. 

" Good  God  ! ” exclaimed  the  afflicted  woman,  cov- 
ering her  face  with  her  hands,  " this  rosary  was  once 
mine.” 

" Yours  ! ” 

" Ay,  ay  ; I brought  it  with  me  from  the  West  Indees, 
and  give  it  to  ould  priest  Gallaher  of  Gortnaglen,  Father 
John’s  uncle.  Augh,  hoch,  it  lucks  ould  and  worn  now 
like  myself ; ” and  the  unfortunate  woman  burst  into 
tears. 

" I wish  it  had  grown  old  and  worn  in  your  own 
hands.  Else,  dear,”  said  Mary,  sitting  beside  her,  and 
pushing  back  the  gray  hairs  from  her  wrinkled  forehead. 
" 1 wish  it  had.  Else,  for  then  your  long  life  had  been 
better  and  happier.” 

" Ma}^  be  so.” 

" How  consoling  to  reflect,  in  your  old  days,  you  had 
served  God  faithfully!  ” 

" It’s  useless  to  think  of  that  now,  alanna ; I’m  lost.” 

" Lost ! 0,  God  forbid.  Only  forgive  your  enemies, 

and  God  will  forgive  you.  Think  how  he  forgave  the 
Jews  who  put  him  to  death  ; think  how  he  forgave  Mag- 
dalen and  the  penitent  thief.” 

" Child,”  said  Else,  with  a smile  that  made  Mary 
shudder  — it  expressed  so  plainly  the  depth  of  her  de- 
spair ; " child,  you  speak  only  of  sinners,  but  I’m  a 
devil.” 

" No,  no,  don’t  smile  and  speak  to  me  so  ; you  are 
not,  you  are  not,”  cried  Mary,  clinging  to  her  old  nurse’s 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


287 


neck  ; you  never  could  love  as  you  loved  me,  and  be 
so  wicked.  0,  never  speak  those  awful  words  again, 
Else  ; they  terrify  me.  No,  no,  you  are  not  so  wicked. 
You  are  not  lost ; the  friend  of  the  poor  orphan  can 
^never  be  lost.^^ 

As  Mary  was  yet  speaking',  a knock  came,  and  Koger 
O^Shaughnessy  presented  himself  at  the  door.  He  had 
been  engaged,  it  would  seem,  burnishing  up  the  old  silver 
salver,  for  he  held  the  precious  relic  under  his  arm,  and 
had  pushed  the  chamois  leather,  with  which  he  had  been 
rubbing  it,  into  the  breast  pocket  of  his  old  bottle-green 
coat. 

What  now,  Roger  ? Has  Mr.  Lee  returned  ? 

Not  yet,  plaze  your  ladyship, replied  Roger,  bow- 
ing respectfully.  0,  it^s  only  Else  Curley, he  added, 
correcting  himself;  I thought  you  had  company.  No, 
he^s  not  come  back  yet  ; and  I wish  he  was,  for  there^s 
strangers  approachin,  and  not  as  much  as  a bit  or  a sup 
in  the  house  fit  to  offer  them.  I wish  to  goodness  theyM 
stay  at  home.  I declare  I don't  know  what  they  want 
down  here,  the  half  o^  them.^^ 

''  Never  mind,  Roger  ; receive  them  at  the  door,  and 
show  them  in.^^ 

''  Indeed,  then,  I won’t,  plaze  yer  ladys^lip,”  replied 
Roger  ; ''  they’ll  have  to  find  the  way  themselves  ; and 
if  they’re  any  of  the  master’s  acquaintances,  you  know, 
they’ll  not  expect  an}^  thing,  ’hem  ! if  you  only  hint, 
ahem  ! that  the  butler’s  not  at  home.” 

''  Very  well,  Roger;  do  as  you  please.” 

And  now,”  said  Mary,  turning  to  Else,  ^'you  prom- 
ise to  tell  these  beads  to-night  under  the  invocation  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin.  Do  you  promise  ? ” 

''  Ay,  ay,  ay.  I’ll  say  them  to  plaze  ye,”  replied  Else  ; 
'^but  it’s  of  little  valie  they’ll  be,  for  I haven’t  bent  a 
knee  to  God  since  afore  you  were  born.” 

''No  matter.  God  is  merciful.  He  has  converted 
worse  hearts  than  yours.  Offer  your  prayers  to-night. 
Else,  and  who  knows  but  the  old  rosary,  once  so  familiar 
to  your  touch,  with  God’s  good  grace,  may  awaken 


288 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


those  better  and  nobler  feelings  which  so  long  have  lain 
dormant  in  your  heart/^ 

God  be  with  ye,  child,  said  Else,  tenderly  kissing 
the  forehead  of  the  gentle  girl.  God  be  with  you, 
asthore,  I tould  ye  my  intintion,  that  ye^d  know  what 
happened  me,  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst. 

have  no  fear  of  that,  dear  nurse;  there^s  still  a 
bright  spot  in  your  soul  to  redeem  it  from  the  sins  that 
cloud  it,  were  they  as  numerous  as  the  sands  of  Arahee- 
ra.  Go,  and  remember  your  promise. 

Ay,  ay,  1^11  remirnber  it  ; and  so  saying,  the  old  soli- 
tary of  Benraven  wrapped  her  gray  cloak  about  her 
shoulders,  and  passed  from  the  room. 

After  paying  a visit  to  the  little  cabin  boy,  and  finding 
him  still  asleep,  but  apparently  much  easier,  Mary  ap- 
proached a window  that  looked  out  upon  the  iron  bridge, 
and  the  narrow  road  leading  to  the  village  of  Araheera. 
She  expected  to  see  the  strangers,  whom  Eoger  had  an- 
nounced, coming  down  the  hill ; but  they  had  already 
passed  the  gate,  and  entered  the  lighthouse  yard.  Else 
Curley^s  tall  form  was  the  only  object  she  could  see,  hur- 
rying back  to  the  Cairn,  accompanied  by  Nannie,  who 
had  waited  for  her,  as  usual,  outside,  and  now  went 
bleating  and  trotting  after  her. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


289 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Lanty  takes  the  Loan  of  Miss  Hardwrinkle,  and  carries 
her  off  on  a Pillion,  — Else  feels  certain  she  has  discov- 
ered a Clew  to  the  Mystery, 

When  Else  reached  the  Cairn,  she  was  somewhat  sur- 
prised to  find  the  door  of  her  cabin  forced  open,  and  the 
scanty  furniture  it  contained  tossed  here  and  there,  as  if 
somebody  had  been  searching  the  house.  Lighting  a rush 
candle  without  further  delay,  and  inserting  it  in  the  wooden 
candlestick  attached  to  her  spinning  wheel,  she  threw  off 
her  gray  cloak,  and  took  a hasty  survey  of  the  room. 
Her  first  glance  was  at  the  hearthstone  under  which 
Randall  Barry  had  so  mysteriously  disappeared,  when 
Nannie’s  bleat  announced  the  presence  of  Hardwrinkle’s 
detectives  ; the  second,  at  the  cupboard,  concealed  in  the 
thickness  of  the  wall,  from  which  she  furnished  the  widg- 
eon and  wine  to  her  young  friend  before  setting  out  on 
his  perilous  journey  to  Arranmore.  Both,  however,  had 
escaped  discovery ; at  least,  there  was  no  visible  mark 
of  their  having  been  suspected  or  examined.  Satisfied, 
apparently,  v^ith  these  observations.  Else  drew  over  her 
creepie-stool,  and  sat  down  to  build  a fire  for  the  night. 
Hardly  had  she  touched  the  tongs,  however,  for  that 
purpose,  when  a piece  of  closely  folded  paper  fell  from 
them  on  the  ashes. 

Humph  ! ” ejaculated  the  old  woman,  picking  it  up  ; 
**  what  can  this  be  ? From  Lanty,  I’ll  warrint ; it’s  like 
his  contrivin,  to  put  it  in  the  joint  o’  the  tongs  ; ” and 
hitching  over  the  creepie  nearer  to  the  wheel,  she  brought 
the  piece  of  crumpled  paper  close  to  the  dim  light,  and 
read  as  follows  : — 

Och,  thin,  sweet,  bad  luck  to  ye,  my  ould  darlint ; 
isn’t  this  the  purty  pickle  ye  got  me  into  ? The  hole 
country’s  out  afther  me,  and  here  I am  waitin  for  ye  this 
25 


290  MARY  LEE,  OR 

half  hour,  with  Miss  Hard  wrinkle  sighin  and  sobhin  on 
the  pillion  at  yer  doore.  Upon  my  conscience  iUs  hung 
ye  ought  to  be,  to  thrate  me  this  way  afther  all  the 
promises  ye  made  to  stay  at  home.  But  naboklish,  1^11 
be  even  with  ye  yit.  Else,  if  I only  live  to  get  over  the 
amplush  I^m  in.  Of  coorse  Pm  expectin  to  be  shot 
every  other  minit,  for  the  polis  is  afther  me  in  all  direc- 
shins.  As  for  the  damsel  herself,  0 hierna!  mortial  ears 
niver  heerd  the  bate  of  her.  Her  schreechin  brought 
out  ivery  livin  soul  atween  here  and  Ballymagahey. 
SheM  listen  naither  to  rime  or  raison.  I tried  to  soother 
her,  but  ye  might  as  well  try  to  soother  a weasel.  Bad 
scran  to  the  haporth,  she  did  but  squeal  and  spit  at  me 
all  the  time.  Thin  I tried  to  raison  with  her.  I tould 
her  I hadn^t  the  laste  bad  intintion  in  life,  it  bein  only 
the  loan  of  her  I was  takin  in  a dacent  way,  till  a friend 
of  mine  got  over  his  throuble.  That  made  her  worse. 
She  wudnT  even  stop  to  listen  to  me.  Bad  luck  to  me, 
Else,  if  iver  I met  so  onraisonable  a female  since  the 
hour  I was  born.  Atween  scripthur  and  schreechin,  she 
has  nearly  driven  me  out  of  my  senses.  Hould  ! whisht ! 
there,  by  all  that^s  bad,  she^s  at  it  again  as  hard  as  iver. 
0,  Heaven  forgive  ye.  Else  Curley,  for  the  throuble  Pm 
in  on  your  account  this  blissed  day.  But  I can^t  stay 
another  minit.  Pm  off  again  over  the  mountain ; and 
remimber  if  any  thing  happens  me,  yeTl  find  her  lady- 
ship at  Molshin  Kelly^s  of  Carlinmore.  No  more  at 

present,  but  remain  your  obedient, 

^ Lanty  Hanlon. 

''Note  bene.  As  ye  valie  yer  life,  keep  close  to 
Mary.^^ 

" Hegh  ! ’’  ejaculated  Else,  throwing  the  paper  on  the 
ashes  again.  " Hegh  ! but  Pm  sorry  I didiPt  get  a 
hoult  of  ye,  ye  spawn  of  the  sarpint.  Hah,  I’d  tache 
ye  a lesson  ye’d  remimber  till  the  clay  covered  ye. 
Little  ye  thought  who  was  watchin  ye  this  mornin,  when 
ye  went  to  Ballymagahey  with  yer  tracts.  Little  ye 
thought  who  the  ould  woman  was  that  passed  for  the 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


291 


widow  with  the  three  twins  — the  poor,  desarted  crathur, 
that’s  dyin  with  the  curse  of  herself  and  her  dead  hus- 
band on  yer  back.  Hah  ! hah  ! Randall  Barry,  ye’ll  not 
have  so  many  constables  to  guard  ye  the  morrow,  while 
such  a high-bred  dame  as  Rebecca  Hardwrinkle’s  to  be 
sought  and  found.  Ay,  Robert,  ye’ll  want  more  peelers 
than  ye  can  spare,  to  guard  your  prisoner,  or  I’m  far  out 
of  my  reckonin..  Devil  as  ye  are,  ye  have  yer  match  for 
wunst.  And  now  do  yer  best,  ye  black-hearted  villain  ; 
do  yer  best,  and  niver  fear,  ivery  time  you  play  the 
Knave  I’ll  strike  with  the  Five-fingers.” 

Else  was  here  interrupted  in  her  soliloquy  by  the  ap- 
proach of  footsteps,  and  turning  on  her  creepie,  seemed 
somewhat  surprised  to  see  the  tall  but  stooping  form  of 
Roger  O’Shaughnessy  entering  the  cabin. 

Humph  I what  now?”  she  demanded;  ''anything 
wrong  at  the  lighthouse,  that  yer  here  so  soon  ? ” 

"No,  nothin  to  speak  of;  ” replied  Roger,  familiarly 
taking  a seat,  and  stroking  down  the  few  gray  hairs  that 
remained,  with  the  palms  of  his  hands.  "No,  nothing  in 
particular.  Only  the  constables  are  there  after  Mr.  Lee,” 
responded  Roger. 

" Humph  ! so  they’re  come  at  last,  are  they  ? ” 

" And  so,”  continued  Roger,  " I thought,  as  they 
cudn’t  do  much  harm  in  the  master’s  absence.  I’d  step  up 
at  my  . leisure  to  Mr.  Guirkie’s,  and  see  if  he’d  buy  this 
picthur.  If  it  brings  only  a couple  of  pounds  atself  you 
know,  we  might  lay  in  a dozen  or  two  of  chape  wine  — 
Cape  Madeira  or  so,  to  keep  up  the  credit  of  the  place.” 

As  the  old  man  spoke,  he  drew  from  beneath  his  coat 
a small  oil  painting,  and  laid  it  on  the  table  beside  him. 

" What  is  this  ? ” exclaimed  Else,  looking  at  it  for  a 
moment.  " Roger,  it  is  her  mother’s  portrait.  You 
shan’t  sell  it.” 

" I know  ; but,  ahem  ! it’s  only  a copy.” 

" Copy  or  not,  ye  can’t  sell  it.” 

"We  can’t  starve,  either,”  said  Roger,  apologetically. 

" Starve  1 ” 

" Of  course,  when  there’s  nothing  left.” 


292 


MAKY  LEE,  OB 


''  Hoot  I nonsense  ! yer  always  complaining' 

''  Bedad,  then,  may  be  Tve  raison  enough  to  complain, 
when  the  bacon's  all  gone,  and  not  as  much  as  the  smell 
of  wine  or  whiskey  within  the  walls  of  the  house.  It's 
aisy  for  you  to  talk.  Else  ; but  if  ye  had  the  credit  o'  the 
family  to  maintain,  and  nothin  to  maintain  it  with  — " 
''Yer  not  so  bad  off  as  that,  Koger,  altogether,  eh  ? 
Have  yer  nothin  at  all  left  after  the  bacon  ? " 

" J^othin  to  speak  of.  There's  some  chickens,  to  be 
sure,  but — " 

" Some  chickens.  Is  there  no  sheep  ? " 

" Ahem ! sheep  ; well,  ay,  three  weeny  wethers,  but 
there's  not  a bit  on  their  bones.  Surely  three  poor, 
weakly  wethers  is  a small  dependence  through  the  long 
winter.  As  for  the  bits  o'  picthurs,  the  poor  child  could 
do  nothing  at  them  since  that  weary  cabin  boy  came  ; 
and,  in  troth,  it  went  hard  enough  on  me.  Else,  to  see 
the  young  creature  workin  away,  from  mornin  till  night, 
unbeknown  to  her  uncle,  tryin  to  earn  with  her  brush 
what'd  buy  little  necessaries  for  the  house,  when  she 
ought  to  be  roulin  in  her  coach,  with  her  footman  behind 
her.  Och  hoch  ! Else,  it's  a poor  day  whin  I'm  driven  to 
make  lyin  excuses  to  sich  gentry  as  the  Johnsons  and 
Whatelys,  in  regard  to  the  house.  God  be  good  to  us, 
it's  little  I thought,  forty  years  ago,  when  I ust  to 
announce  to  Lady  Lambton,  and  Lord  Hammersly,  and 
Marquis  — " 

" Stop,  Roger  Shaughnessy  — stop  yer  claverin,"  inter- 
rupted Else,  lighting  her  pipe  ; " yer  niver  done  braggin 
about  yer  lords  and  ladies." 

"Ahem!  braggin  — bedad,  it's  no  braggin.  Else,  but 
the  truth,  and  not  the  whole  o'  that  same  aither,  let  me 
tell  ye.  Ahem  ! may  be,  when  I ust  to  get  seventeen 
pipes  o'  the  best  wine  — " 

" Hoot ! hould  yer  tongue.  Here,  take  a draw  o'  this 
till  I scrape  up  some  supper.  I have  a journey  afore  me, 
and  I can't  delay  a minute  longer." 

"Well,  ye  may  think  as  ye  plaze,  Else,"  said  Roger, 
taking  the  pipe  from  his  venerable  companion,  " but 


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293 


they’re  changed  times  with  us  any  way,  when  them  that 
wunst  thought  a castle  too  small  to  resaive  their  company 
must  now  starve  in  a dissolit  lighthouse.  Ochone  ! 
ochone  ! the  good  ould  times,  when  we  ust  to  think  nothin 
of  fifty  coaches  of  an  evenin,  drivin  into  the  court-yard.” 
Hoot ! man,  make  it  a hundher  at  wunst,”  said  Else  ; 
what  signifies  a score  or  two,  in  or  over  ? ” 

Well,  may  I niver  do  harm.  Else  — ” 

Whist,  hedhahushty  I say.  Pm  in  no  humor  now  to  listen 
to  such  foolery.  I ought  to  be  on  the  road  by  this  time  ; ” 
and  advancing  to  the  cupboard,  she  drew  down  an  oaten 
bannock  from  a shelf,  and  breaking  it  into  several  pieces, 
consigned  it  to  her  pocket.  Then  bringing  the  silver- 
mounted  pistol  she  was  in  the  habit  of  carrying  on  her 
journeys,  close  to  the  light,  she  examined  the  priming, 
and  finding  it  satisfactory,  thrust  it  into  her  bosom. 

There,”  she  ejaculated,  '^yer  aisy  carried  any  way; 
and  who  knows  but  ye  may  be  of  sarvice  afore  Randall 
Barry  gets  clear  of  his  blood-hounds  ? ” 

Where  are  ye  bound  for.  Else,”  inquired  Roger, 
with  that  waipon  about  ye  ? ” 

That’s  my  business.” 

Yer  not  bent  on  inurdher,  I hope.” 

Not  if  I can  help  it.” 

Bedad,  then,”  said  Roger,  ''I  wudn’t  trust  ye  if  ye 
got  into  one  of  yer  tantrums.  Ahem  ! yer  a dangerous 
woman.  Else,  when  yer  vexed,  or,  as  the  ould  sayin  is, 
yer  a good  friend,  but  a bad  inimy.  But,  Else,  cudn’t 
ye  lend  us  a thrifle  o’  that  money  ye  got  from  the  Yankee  ! 
Ahem  ! Pd  pay  it  back  at  the  end  o’  the  quarter.” 

Not  a farthin,  Roger.  Pm  keepin  that  for  another 
purpose.” 

Well,  it’s  not  much  I’m  askin,”  said  Roger  ; **  only 
just  the  price  of  a dozen  o’  wine,  and  a cheese  or  two, 
for  the  credit  o’  the  house.” 

Let  the  house  take  care  of  itself,”  responded  Else, 
throwing  the  gray  cloak  again  upon  her  emaciated 
shoulders.  I’ll  have  good  use  for  the  money  afore 
long,  Roger.  As  to  buy  cheese  with  it,  or  wine  aither, 
25* 


294 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


I^m  afeerd  it'd  be  more  likely  to  buy  a rope  to  hang  me 
for  passin  it.  Ay,  ay,  Koger,  ye'll  hear  news  about  that 
money  yet,  or  I'm  greatly  mistaken." 

Ahem  ! yer  in  a mighty  hurry.  Else  ; wait  till  I get 
the  picthur  under  my  coat.  Ahem  1 as  for  a dhrop  of 
any  thing,  I suppose  it's  not  convanient." 

Humph  ! a dhrop  of  any  thing.  I thought  it'd  come 
to  that  at  last ; " and  again  opening  the  cupboard,  she 
drew  forth  a bottle,  and  held  it  for  an  instant  between  her 
and  the  light.  Ay,  there's  some  left,"  she  added, 
laying  it  on  the  table.  Drink  it,  and  let  me  go." 

Roger  raised  the  bottle  also,  and  seeing  it  nearly  full, 
laid  it  down  again.  Ahem  1 ahem  ! " said  he,  stroking 
down  his  long  gray  hairs,  and  looking  wistfully  at  his 
companion.  '"Ahem!  it's  a liberty  I take.  Else,  but  if 
ye  have  no  objection,  I'll  carry  it  home  with  me." 

Carry  it  home  ? " 

Yes.  Ahem  I Captain  Petersham  and  the  John- 
sons'll  be  down  to-morrow,  and  there's  not  a dhrop  to 
offer  them." 

Take  it,  then  — take  it,  and  away  with  ye.  I ought 
to  be  in  Crohan  by  this  time." 

Ye  might  had  company,"  observed  Roger,  carefully 
corking  the  bottle  and  dropping  it  into  his  capacious 
pocket.  Ye  might  had  company  if  ye  only  left 

sooner." 

I want  none  ; the  dark  night's  all  the  company  I 
seek." 

Well,  that  blackamore  came  down  with  a constable, 
just  afore  I left  the  lighthouse,  and  took  away  the  boy." 

What,  took  the  boy  away  in  the  state  he's  in  ? " 

Troth  did  they,  and  without  as  much  as  sayin  by  yer 
lave  atself.  The  constable  had  a writ  with  him  signed 
by  Mr.  Hard  wrinkle." 

Hah,  the  villain,"  exclaimed  Else  ; that's  more  of 
his  plottin.  Was  the  boy  willin  to  go  ? " 

Willin  — ye  might  well  say  that.  The  minute  he 
saw  the  blackamore,  he  all  but  jumped  out  o'  bed  with 
joy,  and  the  poor  blackamore  himself  kissed  and  hugged 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


295 


the  little  fellow  till  I thought  he^d  niver  let  him  go. 
Bedad,  I niver  thought  them  naigers  had  so  much  good 
nature  in  them  afore. 

''  And  so  he  had  a writ  from  Robert  Hardwrinkle/’  mut- 
tered Else,  reflectively.  Ay,  ay,  that  was  the  Yan- 
kee’s doings,  I suspect.  Humph,  I’m  beginnin  to  think, 
from  what  Mrs.  Motherly  tould  me  about -the  nigger, 
when  he  first  got  a glimpse  of  Weeks,  they  , must  be  ould 
acquaintances,  and  may  be  he  thought  the  boy’d  tell  tales 
when  he  recovered  his  senses.  Hah,  hah,  Robert ! I’m 
on  yer  track  again.  So  the  bo^’^’s  gone.” 

Ay,  is  he  ; and  mighty  well  plazed  I am  at  that 
same,  in  regard  to  Miss  Mary,  for  the  crathur  cudn’t  do 
a hand’s  turn  while  he  staid  — but  hould,”  said  Roger, 
suddenly  checking  himself,  hould  ; I’ll  wager  what  ye 
plaze  he  tuck  the  rosary  with  him.” 

What  rosary  ? ” demanded  Else. 

''Why,  Mary’s  mother’s  — Mrs.  Talbot’s;  and  I de- 
clare I niver  thought  of  it  till  this  minute.” 

'•  The  one  with  the  jewels  ? ” 

" Ay.  She  forgot  all  about  it,  I suppose.” 

" Forgot  what  ? ” 

"That  she  lent  it  to  him.” 

" She  never  lent  it ; she  hadn’t  it  to  lend  since  the  day 
the  Yankee  first  come  to  the  lighthouse.  She  mislaid  it 
somewhere  that  day,  and  niver  could  find  hilt  or  hare  of 
it  since.  Hoot  ! ye’re  dhramin,  Roger.” 

" Dramin  — bedad,  then,  it  was  a mighty  quare  drame, 
when  I saw  it  with  my  own  eyes,  and  handled  it  with  my 
own  fingers.” 

" Her  mother’s  rosary  ? ” 

" To  be  sure.  How  could  I mistake  it  ? Didn’t  I see 
it  a hundred  times,  when  we  — ahem  I when  we  lived  at 
the  castle  ? Bedad,  Else,  it’s  not  a thing  to  be  aisy 
mistaken  about,  for  there’s  not  the  like  of  it  in  the  whole 
world,  but  one,  and  that  same’s  many  a thousand  mile 
from  here  — if  it’s  in  bein  at  all.” 

" Ye  mane  Mr.  Talbot’s  ? ” 

" Of  coorse.  They  were  both  as  like  as  two  eggs. 


296 


MABY  LEE,  OR 


and  presents  from  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  to  Edward^s 
father  and  mother,  when  they  went  to  France  long  ago/' 
Ay,^'  said  Else,  resuming  her  seat,  and  looking  up 
sharply  in  Roger's  face,  as  if  she  feared  his  mind  was 
wandering,  — ''ay,  'as  like  as  two  eggs/  And  where 
did  the  boy  keep  the  rosary  ? for  it's  strange  I never 
could  see  it  about  him,  though  with  him  late  and  early." 

"Well,  ahem!"  said  Roger,  "I  must  tell  ye  that. 
Else,  since  ye  ask  me.  Ahem  I one  day  last  week,  as 
Lanty  was  going  to  Rosnakill,  I wanted  him  to  bring  me 
a bottle  o'  wine ; for  feen  a dhrop  was  in  the  house,  and 
we  expected  company  that  evenin.  Well,  it  happened 
Mr.  Lee  had  no  money  convanient ; and  iiaither  had 
Lanty  himself,  nor  Mary  ; and  I didn't  know  what  in  the 
world  to  do  in  the  amplush  I was  in, ’for  as  luck'd  have 
it,  the  brandy  was  out  as  well  as  the  wine,  and  not  a 
taste  of  any  thing  in  the  house  but  a thiifle  o'  whiskey 
in  the  bottom  o'  the  decanter.  So,  thinks  I to  myself, 
since  I can  do  no  better.  I'll,  ahem  ! I'll  try  — may  be 
the  cabin  boy  might  happen  to  have  some  change  in  his 
pockets,  and  I'll  borrow  it  till  he  gets  well." 

"So  ye  searched  his  pockets  ? " 

" I did,"  replied  Roger  ; " ahem  ! It  wasn't  right,  I 
suppose ; but  seein  the  pinch  I was  in,  I couldn't  very 
well  help  it." 

" And  found  the  rosary  ? " 

" Yes  ; sewed  in  the  linins  of  his  waistcoat  pocket.  I 
thought  first  from  the  hard  feel  it  might  be  gold  pieces, 
and  I ripped  it  open." 

" Sewed  in  the  linins  of  his  waistcoat  ? " repeated 
Else,  pronouncing  the  words  slowly,  and  gazing  vacantly 
at  her  companion  as  she  spoke. 

" Ay,  she  sewed  it  in  herself,  I suppose ; thinkin  the 
blissed  crucifix  might  help  him  in  his  sickness." 

" Roger  Shaughnessy,"  said  the  old  woman,  suddenly 
rising,  after  a long  pause,  during  which  she  kept  her 
eyes  unconsciously  fixed  on  him,  — '*  Roger  Shaughnessy, 
can  you  swear  on  the  holy  evangelist,  you  seen  that 
rosary  in  the  boy's  possession  ? " 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


297 


**  Swear  ! Of  coorse  I can.  Why,  is  there  any  thing 
strange  in  that  ? Ye  seem  to  be  all  of  a flutther  about  it.^^ 
No  matter  — I have  my  own  mainin  for  it.  Now  go 
you  back  to  the  lighthouse,  and  stay  with  Mary  ; she^s 
all  alone,  and  needs  yer  company.  I must  hurry  as  fast 
as  I can  to  Castle  Gregory,  and  then  back  to  Crohan.’^ 

''  The  Lord  be  about  us  ! exclaimed  Roger,  as  he 
stood  looking  at  the  receding  form  of  the  old  woman 
descending  the  hill.  What  does  she  mane  now  ? 
There,  she’s  off  to  Castle  Gregory  this  hour  of  the  night, 
and  thinks  no  more  of  it  than  a girl  would  of  sixteen. 
Ahem ! he  added,  buttoning  his  coat  over  the  pic- 
ture, and  moving  off  towards  the  lighthouse  ; ''  she^s  a 
wondherful  woman. 


298 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Uncle  Jerry  and  Mrs.  Motherly  quarrel^  and  the  Captain 
suggests  a Means  of  Reconciliation. 

Upon  my  word,  it^s  very  strange,’^  said  Mr.  Guirkie 
to  Father  Brennan,  as  the  latter  entered  the  breakfast 
parlor  at  Greenmount  to  make  his  usual  morning  visit ; 

I declare  it  is  exceedingly  strange.^' 

What^s  the  matter  now  ? any  thing  new  since  last 
night  ? inquired  the  priest. 

No  ; but  that  abduction  of  Miss  Hard  wrinkle  — Mrs. 
Motherly  has  just  returned  from  the  post  oflSce,  and  says 
there  are  no  tidings  of  her  yet.  What  in  the  world  could 
the  fellow  mean  by  carrying  her  off  ? 

''  You’ll  soon  find  that  out,  1 suspect.  Lanty  seldom 
plays  a trick  without  an  object.” 

''  You  think  Lanty’s  the  man,  then,  without  doubt?” 

'"Certainly  — no  other  would  attempt  it;”  and  the 
priest  picked  up  a newspaper,  and  familiarly  took  a seat 
at  the  window. 

" Why,  God  bless  me,  if  Robert  Hard  wrinkle  gets  hold 
of  the  unfortunate  fellow,  he’ll  transport  him,”  said  Uncle 
Jerry,  pacing  the  room  uneasily,  and  bobbing  the  tail  of 
his  morning  gown  up  and  down  as  usual.  " He  certainly 
will  transport  him  — eh  ? ” 

" Never  mind.  Lanty  can  take  care  of  himself.  With 
all  his  recklessness  he  manages  to  keep  clear  of  the  hang- 
man. Ten  chances  to  one,  if  caught  with  the  lady  in  his 
custody,  he  would  make  it  appear  he  was  only  taking  her 
home.” 

" Just  so.  I wouldn’t  doubt  it  in  the  least,”  assented 
Uncle  Jerry;  "the  fellow’s  capable  of  doing  any  thing. 
In  fact,  he  has  imposed  on  myself  a hundred  times.  No 
later  than  last  week  the  rogue  sold  me  hare’s  ear  and 
crottle,  not  worth  a brass  farthing  — ” 

" Ha,  ha  ! ” laughed  the  priest,  you’re  beginning  to 
find  him  out  at  last.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


299 


Well,  but  after  all,  the  villain  has  something  in  him 
one  can^t  help  liking.  He^s  full  of  tricks,  to  be  sure,  but 
still  he^s  honest  in  his  own  way.  I wish  to  Heaven  he 
was  out  of  the  county  for  a while,  at  all  events ; for  if 
he  stay  here  that  serpent  will  destroy  him.'^ 

Who  ? Robert  Hard  wrinkle  ? 

Yes ; lie^ll  follow  him  like  a blood-hound.  But,  by 
the  by,  I had  almost  forgotten.  What  of  your  young 
friend  Barry  ? Will  he  be  committed  ? 

I fear  it.  Captain  Petersham  says  he  caiPt  help 
committing  him.  The  case  is  so  clear  there’s  no  possi- 
bility of  getting  over  it.” 

''  Poor  fellow  ! I’m  sorry  for  him,  and  I’m  very  sorry 
on  Mary  Lee’s  account.  Can’t  nothing  be  done  to  save 
him  — eh  ? ” 

"'Nothing — the  sergeant  of  police  here — Mullen, 
who  is  really  a very  honest,  decent  fellow  — says  he  must 
identify  him.” 

" They  say  he’s  a fine  young  man,  this  Barry.” 

" Very  much  so,  indeed.  He’s  as  handsome  and  high- 
minded  a lad  as  ye  could  meet  with  any  where.  But  like 
all  young  men  in  love,  he  is  very  imprudent.  So  much 
so  indeed,  that  I often  think  he  must  have  been  crazy 
to  act  as  he  has.  The  idea  of  his  running  the  gantlet 
through  all  the  constables  and  spies  between  here  and 
Cork,  with  a reward  of  five  hundred  pounds  for  his  head, 
merely  to  see  a foolish  young  girl,  is  so  provoking  to 
all  who  feel  an  interest  in  his  welfare,  that  — ” 

"Hush,  hush  ! Father  John  ! nonsense  1 say  no  more 
about  that.  Love’s  a thing  you’re  not  competent  to 
speak  of,  you  know.  It’s  out  of  your  line  altogether. 
So  far  from  thinking  the  less  of  him  for  his  imprudence,  I 
think  the  more  of  him.  But  apropos  of  the  Lees,”  he 
added,  throwing  up  his  spectacles  and  halting  before  the 
priest;  " have  you  found  out  who  they  are,  or  what  they 
are  ? ” 

"No,  sir  ; so  far  as  regards  their  family  connections, 

I know  no  more  about  them  than  you  know  yourself.” 

" I declare  I It’s  very  strange.  I can  find  no  one  to 


300 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


give  me  the  least  information  respecting  the  family.  I 
tried  once  to  draw  something  from  Kate  Petersham,  she^s 
so  intimate  there  ; but  the  young  baggage  was  as  close 
as  an  oyster.  As  for  Eoger,  I darn^t  venture  to  approach 
the  subject,  lest  he  take  alarm  ; and  then  he  would  never 
come  to  sell  me  a picture  again.  But  have  you  no  con- 
ception of  what  the  mystery  is  ? It  can't  be  murder,  I 
suppose.'^ 

0,  no  ; nothing  of  that  nature.  It  means,  I suppose, 
that  Mr.  Lee  got  embarrassed  in  his  money  affairs,  and 
left  home  for  a time  to  avoid  his  creditors  — that's  all,  I 
suspect." 

Poor  fellow,"  said  Uncle  Jerry ; it's  a pity  of  him." 

It  is  indeed  a great  pity  ; for  he's  an  honorable,  gen- 
erous-hearted man  as  I've  met  in  many  a year." 

God  comfort  him,"  ejaculated  Uncle  Jerry  again, 
twirling  his  thumbs  as  he  looked  through  the  window. 

0,  dear!  0,  dear  — what  a poor  sight,  to  see  a high- 
minded,  well-bred  gentleman  like  him  reduced  so  low  — 
so  low  as  to  trim  oil  lamps  for  a living  ! " 

It's  hard." 

Hard  1 Why,  only  think  of  it.  Here  am  I,  a misera- 
ble, good-for-nothing  old  imbecile,  without  kith  or  kin  in 
the  world,  and  yet  plenty  of  money  in  my  purse,  and  a 
comfortable  house  to  live  in,  whilst  down  there  in  the 
black  binns  of  Araheera  there's  a gentleman  of  birth  and 
education,  with  an  angel  of  a child  to  take  care  of,  and 
not  a shilling  in  his  pocket  to  buy  the  common  necessaries 
of  life.  I declare  it's  awful." 

The  ways  of  God  are  wonderful." 

Wonderful  ? I tell  you  what.  Father  Brennan,  one 
must  be  well  fortified  by  religion  to  bear  up  against  it. 
A beautiful  girl  like  Mary  Lee,  pining  away  in  poverty 
and  solitude,  working,  working,  night  and  day,  night  and 
day,  at  her  easel  to  earn  a morsel  of  bread,  and  I a worn- 
out  old  fellow,  doing  nothing,  nay,  occupying  some  use- 
ful body's  place  in  the  world,  when  I should  have  been 
kicked  out  of  it  long  ago.  Why,  sir,  it's  outrageous  to 
think  of  it.  It's  actually  outrageous." 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


301 


''  Stop,  stop  — take  care,  Mr.  Giiirkie,^^  said  the  priest ; 
'^you  talk  too  fast.^^ 

''  Sir,  it  would  provoke  any  man.  I say  if  Aristotle 
were  a saint,  it  would  provoke  him  ; and  Uncle  Jerry 
rose  and  pushed  back  the  chair  violently. 

''  But  this  is  taking  God  Almighty  to  task,  Mr.  Guir- 
kie.  You  should  remember  he  orders  every  thing  for  the 
best,  and  that  inscrutable  are  his  judgments,  and  un- 
searchable his  ways.^’ 

I know  that.  I know  God  is  good,  and  I know  all 
that  seems  strange  to  us  now  will  be  fully  explained  here- 
after, of  course.  Why,  if  I didn’t  believe  that,  I wouldn’t 
put  up  with  it  half  the  time.” 

''Ha,  ha!”  laughed  the  priest — "put  up  with  it? 
You  haven’t  much  to  put  up  with,  I should  think  ? ” 

"No  matter  for  that ; I have  my  own  feelings,  and  you 
know  very  well.  Father  John  — ” Here  Mr.  Guirkie 
was  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Mrs.  Motherly. 

" Humph  ! may  I beg  to  know,  ma’am,”  said  he,  turn- 
ing half  round  and  looking  angrily  at  his  respectable 
housekeeper,  — “ may  I beg  to  know  why  we  are  inter- 
rupted ? ” 

" It’s  no  offence,  I hope,  to  come  with  a message,” 
said  Mrs.  Motherly,  deprecatingly.  " I niver  thought 
it  was.” 

" Didn’t  you  ? It’s  no  matter  what  you  thought.” 

" Don’t  be  unkind  to  the  good  woman,”  said  Father 
John,  who  understood  Mr.  Guirkie  well,  and  knew  all  his 
little  weaknesses  respecting  Mrs.  Motherly.  "Don’t  be 
unkind  to  her,  Mr.  Guirkie.  She  is  a very  excellent 
woman,  is  Mrs.  Motherly.” 

" Humph  — good  enough,  if  she  only  knew  her  place. 
But  I protest  against  her  inveterate  habit  of  interrupting 
me  when  I have  company.  I shan’t  tolerate  it,  sir,  any 
longer.” 

"Just  listen  to  that.  Father  John,  when  he  knows  in 
his  heart. and  soul  it’s  his  own  story  he’s  tellin.” 

" My  own  story,  woman  ? ” 

"Yes,  sir;  jest  yer  own  story.  For  ye  niver  have 

26 


302 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


company  in  the  house  but  ye  thrate  me  this  way.  There^s 
no  livin  with  ye,  when  there’s  any  body  to  the  fore.” 

And  how  is  it  when  he’s  alone  ? ” 

He’s  as  quiet  as  a lamb,  your  reverence.” 

It’s  false,”  said  Mr.  Guirkie  ; ''  I say  it’s  false. 

False  I 0,  the  Lord  pardon  ye,  sir,  the  Lord  pardon 
ye,  for  beliein  yerself ; for  I’d  take  it  to  my  death.  Father 
Brennan,  there’s  not  a quieter  nor  a kinder  man  livin, 
when  he’s  by  himself.” 

Indeed  ! ” said  the  priest,  emphasizing  the  word,  and 
looking  significantly  at  Mr.  Guirkie.  ''  Ho  ! ho  I that’s 
the  way  of  it ! ” 

Pray  what  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Brennan  ? ” demanded 
Uncle  Jerry. 

0,  nothing,  nothing  particular.  I was  merely  think- 
ing of  what  Captain  Petersham  says  of  you  and  Mrs. 
Motherly.” 

''  Of  me  and  Mrs.  Motherly  ? ” repeated  Uncle  Jerry. 

''  Of  me  and  Mr.  Guirkie  ? ” echoed  Mrs.  Motherly. 

What  could  he  say  of  me,  yer  reverence  ? I defy  him 
to  say  any  thing  of  me  but  what’s  dacent.” 

Of  course  you  do,  Mrs.  Motherly.  You  have  always 
been,  since  you  came  to  reside  in  my  parish,  an  honest, 
respectable  woman.  Captain  Petersham,  when  he  spoke 
of  you  and  Mr.  Guirkie,  never  pretended  to  insinuate  — ” 

''  0,  I dar  him  to  it,”  exclaimed  the  good  woman  ; I 
dar  him  to  it ; and  he’ll  be  here  face  to  face  afore  many 
minutes,  for  the  message  I came  with  was  from  his  groom 
that  he’d  call  here  on  his  return  from  the  barracks.  I’ll 
dar  him  to^ay  any  thing  against  my  karacter.  Och,  och, 
it’d  be  a poor  day  with  me  to  hear  my  name  now  in  the 
mouth  of  the  people,  after  livin  fourteen  long  years  a 
widow,  without  man  or  mortal  ever  presuming  to  throw 
dirt  at  my  door.  Hierna!  the  Lord  be  about  us- — to 
spake  of  Mr.  Guirkie  and  me  in  the  same  breath  ! ” 

My  good  woman,”  said  the  priest,  rising  from  his 
chair  and  approching  her,  *'you  take  this  quite  too  seri- 
ously.” 

Well,  listen  to  me,  yer  reverence,  for  a minute.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


303 


No,  no,  not  now  — some  other  time  — it^s  all  a joke, 
you  know/’ 

Joke  ! but  I’ll  let  neither  man  or  woman  joke  with 
my  karacter.  Father  Brennan.  I’ll  not  lie  under  it,  sir. 
Mr.  Guirkie’s  a good  man,  sir,  and  a dacent  man,  and  has 
the  good  will  of  rich  and  poor  ; but  may  I niver  cross  that 
flure  again,  if  he  had  the  vartues  of  all  the  saints  in  the 
collinder,  and  all  the  gold  in  the  Bank  of  England  to  boot, 
if  I’d  ever  as  much  as  think  of  him,  barrin  as  I ought  to 
do,  and  as  it  becomes  my  place  to  do.  I know  he’s  kind 
to  me,  sir,  and  very  kind  to  me  — ” 

Quit  the  room,  ma’am,”  commanded  Uncle  Jerry; 
quit  the  room  instantly  ; ” and  snatching  the  spectacles 
from  his  face,  he  motioned  with  them  to  the  door.  Kind 
to  you,  indeed  ! I command  you  to  quit  the  room.” 

**  And  yer  house  too,”  replied  Mrs.  Motherly,  raising 
her  apron  to  her  eyes.  '^0,  dear,  0,  dear!  isn’t  it  a 
poor  thing  that  an  ould  woman  like  me  can’t  button  her 
master’s  leggins,  or  tie  his  cravat,  but  he’ll  suspect  her 
of  thinking  of  what  she  never  dreamt  of  ? ” 

I suspect  you  I ” 

Ay,  just  you,  Mr.  Guirkie  ; for  I believe  in  my  heart 
no  one  else  could  ever  make  up  such  a story.  I don’t 
deny  that  I liked  ye  for  a master  in  spite  of  all  yer  odd 
ways,  and  that  I tried  to  take  care  of  you,  when  I seen 
ye  couldn’t  take  care  of  yourself;  but  it’s  little  I thought 
ye’d  conster  my  kindness  in  the  way  ye  did.” 

^'Listen,”  said  Uncle  Jerry,  running  his  hands  under 
his  skirts,  and  bending  towards  his  housekeeper;  '^may 
I beg  to  be  informed  whether  I am  master  in  this  house ; 
and  if  so,  why  you  don’t  quit  the  room  when  I command 
you.” 

As  for  this  cruel  tnratement,  after  so  many  years  slavin 
and  workin  for  ye,  night  and  day,”  continued  the  weep- 
ing widow,  without  paying  the  least  attention  to  her 
master’s  request,  I forgive  ye  for  it.  I do  indeed,  for- 
give ye  from  my  heart  and  soul.” 

You’re  resolved,  then,  not  to  quit  the  room ; eh, 
have  you  actually  made  up  your  mind  not  to  leave  ? ” 


304 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Och,  hoch ! yeM  be  dead  in  yer  grave  many  a year 
ago,  Mr.  Guirkie,  only  for  the  way  I watched  ye ; for, 
yer  reverence,  ye  know  yourself,  the  poor  man  has  no 
more  wit  nor  a child  — 

''  Humph  ! I see  you  won^t  go,  Mrs.  Motherly.  Very 
well,  then,^^  said  Uncle  Jerry;  I shall.  Let  me  pass.^^ 

As  he  rushed  through  the  entrance  hall,  his  slippers 
clattering  against  his  heels,  and  his  spectacles  swinging 
from  his  fingers,  the  hall  door  opened,  and  Captain  Peters- 
ham entered  whip  in  hand. 

Soh,  ho  ! what  now  ? 

Good  morning,  sir,^^  responded  Uncle  Jerry,  bowing 
stiffly. 

'' You^re  excited,  Mr.  Guirkie,  eh  ? WhaUs  the  mat- 
ter ? 

Excited  ! can^t  I get  excited  in  my  own  house,  if  I 
please,  Captain  Petersham,  without  being  obliged  to  ac- 
count for  it  ? 

Undoubtedly,  sir,  most  undoubtedly.  Why  not  ? 

That  is,^'  said  Uncle  Jerry,  correcting  himself,  '"that 
is,  if  Pm  master  of  the  house  ; but  it  seems  I am  not. 
My  housekeeper,  Mrs.  Motherly,  there,  is  master ; and 
he  glanced  back  at  the  parlor  door. 

Ho,  ho  ! it^s  only  a lovers’  quarrel,  then.  Come, 
come,  Mr.  Guirkie,  you  musn’t  get  angry  with  Mrs. 
Motherly ; if  the  good  woman  grows  jealous  of  you  now 
and  then,  you  must  try  to  conciliate  her,  you  know,  the 
best  way  you  can.” 

Captain  Petersham,  your  language  is  offensive,”  said 
Uncle  Jerry,  and  I shan’t  put  up  with  it  any  longer.” 

And,  Captain  Petersham,  you  must  clear  my  karacter 
this  very  minute,”  sobbed  Mrs.  Motherly,  coming  up  from 
the  parlor  with  her  apron  to  her  eyes,  followed  by  Father 
John.  ^'I’m  a lone  woman,  sir,  and  have  nothing  but 
my  karacter  to  depend  on.” 

''  By  the  Lord  Harry,”  exclaimed  the  captain,  looking 
from  one  to  the  other,  '^here’s  a pretty  piece  of  work. 
Ho,  ho  I and  Father  Brennan,  too.  By  George,  sir, 
you’re  the  very  man.  You  can  settle  the  whole  affair  in 
a jiffy.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


305 


How  so  ? 

''  Why,  marry  them  at  once,  sir.  Marry  them  in- 
stantly. Nothing  else  will  ever  put  a stop  to  their  love 
quarrels. 

Mr.  Guirkie,  on  hearing  this,  could  contain  himself  no 
longer.  Captain  Petersham, he  cried,  I shall  not 
ask  you  to  quit  my  house,  for  nobody  ever  did  quit  it  yet 
at  my  request,  and  nobody  ever  will,  I suppose  ; but, 
sir,  ril  leave  you  and  your  friends  to  occupy  the  prem- 
ises. For  my  part,  I leave  this  neighborhood  to-morrow, 
and  seek  for  some  place  where  I can  live  in  peace. 

''  Mr.  Guirkie,  are  you  mad  ? said  Father  John,  stop- 
ing  him  as  he  turned  the  handle  of  the  hall  door. 

Gentlemen,  dear,  don^t  let  him  go  out  without  his 
cap,^'  said  Mrs.  Motherly  ; and  them  slippers  of  his, 
sure  they’re  no  betther  than  brown  paper  — he’ll  ketch  his 
death  of  cold.  0,  Merna!  hiernal^^ 

''  Mr.  Brennan,  am  I to  consider  myself  a prisoner  in 
my  own  house  ? ” demanded  Mr.  Guirkie.  Say  yes  or 
no,  sir,  at  once,  and  be  done  with  it.” 

As  the  priest  was  about  to  reply,  the  clatter  of  horses’ 
feet  was  heard  approaching,  and  next  instant  Kate  Peters- 
ham, mounted  on  Moll  Pitcher,”  came  cantering  into 
the  court-yard,  and  reining  up  at  the  door,  jumped  from 
the  saddle. 

''  Mr.  Guirkie,  a word  with  you,”  she  said,  taking  his 
arm,  and  leading  him  back  to  the  parlor  ; as  for  you. 
Father  John,  I must  see  you  before  the  trial  comes  on.” 

26* 


306 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTEE  XXV, 

Mrs.  Motherly j before  quitting  the  House  forever j wishes  to 
leave  some  Directions  about  her  Master"* s Flannels.  — 
Mr.  Guirkie,  in  the  mean  time,  sheds  Tears  over  the 
Portrait  of  Mary*s  Mother.  — His  first  Love  and  his 
last. 

It  was  now  approaching  noon  — the  hour  at  which  the 
neighboring  justices  of  the  peace  usually  assembled  in 
the  little  court  house  at  Tamney,  to  hold  their  petit  ses- 
sion once  a fortnight.  Already  the  court-yard  was  filled 
with  men,  women,  and  boys,  (a  thing  of  very  rare  occur- 
rence in  that  remote  and  peaceable  district,)  eagerly 
talking  in  groups,  here  and  there,  about  something  in 
which  they  seemed  to  take  a more  than  ordinary  share 
of  interest.  Two  or  three  policemen,  whom  Hardwrin- 
kle  had  ordered  from  the  next  town,  to  take  charge 
of  the  barrack  in  the  absence  of  its  proper  occupants, 
now  in  search  of  his  sister  among  the  glens  of  Benra- 
ven,  were  pacing  up  and  down  before  the  grated  win- 
dows, anxiously  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  magistrates. 
To  judge  from  the  smothered  imprecations  of  some 
among  the  crowd,  and  the  more  significant  gesticula- 
tions of  others,  one  might  easily  suspect  there  was  mis- 
chief brewing.  Here  and  there  a stalwart  fellow  might 
be  seen  hitching  up  his  pantaloons,  and  spitting  on  his 
shillaleh,  as  he  clutched  it  in  his  brawny  hand  ; and  now 
and  then  a boy  would  jump  to  a seat  on  the  low  stone  wall 
that  enclosed  the  court-yard,  with  pockets  well  stuffed, 
and  more  than  usually  heavy.  The  fear  of  the  law,  and 
the  presence  of  the  police,  small  as  the  force  was,  had 
the  natural  effect  of  preventing,  for  the  present,  actual 
breach  of  peace  ; but  still  it  was  easy  to  see  that  some- 
thing serious  was  likely  to  take  place  before  the  close  of 
the  proceedings.  One  individual  in  particular  seemed 
very  busy  amongst  the  crowd,  apparently  giving  orders 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


307 


and  directions.  This  was  a woman  of  tall  stature,  wear- 
ing a gray  cloak,  with  the  hood  drawn  over,  but  behind 
which,  notwithstanding  its  depth  of  shade,  several  white 
elf  locks  were  plainly  visible.  The  reader  will  at  once 
recognize  in  this  personage  our  old  acquaintance.  Else 
Curley,  of  the  Cairn.  Still  erect  and  lithe  as  a sapling, 
though  the  snows  of  eighty  winters  had  passed  over  her 
head,  she  made  her  way  through  the  throng  of  men  and 
women,  with  a step  as  firm  as  when  she  trod  the  battle 
field  on  the  heights  of  Madeira,  forty  years  before.  Nor 
had  she  lost  entirely,  either,  that  imposing  presence, 
which  in  her  younger  daj^s  must  have  stamped  her  as  a 
remarkable  woman.  Age,  it  is  true,  had  furrowed  her 
skin,  and  pinched  her  cheeks  with  its  iron  fingers  ; but 
the  bold  forehead  and  the  deep-set  gray  eye  were  there 
yet,  to  tell  of  her  resolute  and  indomitable  will.  As  she 
turned  from  side  to  side  to  deliver  her  commands,  the 
women  and  boys  fell  back  and  gazed  at  her  with  fear, 
and  the  strongest  men  there  shrank  from  her  touch,  as 
they  felt  her  hard,  bony  hand  upon  their  shoulders. 

Suddenly  a horseman  appeared  in  sight,  cantering  on 
from  the  direction  of  Greenmount  cottage  ; and  instantly 
the  cry  rose  that  Captain  Petersham  was  corning.  Then 
the  crowd  began  to  sway  to  and  fro,  the  boys  to  jump 
from  their  seats  on  the  low  wall,  and  the  policemen  to 
shoulder  their  muskets.  But  they  were  doomed  to  be 
disappointed ; for  the  horseman,  on  nearer  approach, 
proved  to  be  only  one  of  the  captain^s  grooms,  who, 
riding  up  to  the  gate,  beckoned  to  a constable,  and  hand- 
ing him  a warrant,  commanded  him,  in  his  master^s  name, 
to  execute  it  without  delay. 

The  man  seemed  to  hesitate  for  a moment  after  read- 
ing the  document. 

The  captain^s  orders  are,  that  you  proceed  to  Crohan 
House  instantly, said  the  groom,  ''  and  bring  the  boy 
into  court. 

‘‘  Yes  ; but  I don^t  feel  at  liberty  to  quit  my  post,^^ 
replied  the  constable.  ''  Our  force  is  small. 

As  you  please,’^  said  the  servant;  '‘1  have  delivered 


308 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


my  orders  ; and  wheeling  round,  without  further  parley, 
he  galloped  back  to  Greenmount. 

^^Well,  Thomas, demanded  the  captain,  meeting  the 
groom  at  the  door,  ''you  handed  the  warrant  to  one  of 
the  guard  — has  he  gone  to  execute  it  ? 

"No,  sir  ; he  seems  to  have  scruples  about  quitting 
his  post/^ 

" Scruples  ! ho,  ho  ! Is  that  the  way  of  it  ? Scruples  ! 
Look  here,  sir ; ride  back,  and  tell  him  for  me,  jf  he  don^t 
start  within  sixty  seconds  from  the  time  you  reach  him, 
ITl  have  him  in  irons  ten  minutes  after.  Begone  now, 
and  hurry  back  to  report. 

" The  scoundrel ! he  continued,  plucking  off  his  sea 
cap,  and  rubbing  up  his  curly  hair,  as  the  servant  rode 
off ; " the  sneaking  scoundrel ! ITl  thin  off  his  constables 
for  him  ! By  the  Lord  Harry,  heTl  not  involve  me  in  his 
villanies,  if  I can  help  it.  It^s  most  atrocious.  What ! 
send  a fine,  gallant  young  fellow  like  that  to  the  hulks 
or  the  gallows,  because  he  loves  his  country  more  than 
his  king  ? ITl  be  hanged  if  I do  it,  so  long  as  I can 
throw  an  obstacle  in  the  way.’^ 

" Captain, said  a voice  behind  him,  "if  it^s  plazin^  to 
yer  honor  — 

" Hilloa  ! who’s  here  ? What ! Mrs.  Motherly  — and 
still  in  tears  ? Come,  come,  go  to  your  room,  woman, 
and  get  reconciled.  Away  ! You’re  as  great  a fool  as 
your  master  ! ” 

" Indeed,  then,  that’s  the  truest  word  ye  said  yet,  cap- 
tain ; for  if  I wasn’t  a greater  fool,  I wouldn’t  stay  with 
him.  But  there’s  an  end  to  it  now,  any  way.” 

" End  to  what  ? ” 

" I’ll  leave  him  ; that’s  all.” 

" Nonsense  ! ” 

"Indeed,  then,  I will,  sir;  I’ll  niver  sleep  another 
night  in  this  house.  My  heart’s  been  a-breakin  with  him 
every  day  these  five  years,  but  it’s  broken  now,  out  and 
out.  0,  wmastru,  winastru ! and  this  is  the  thanks  I’m 
gettin  after  workin  and  slavin  for  him  early  and  late. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


309 


night  and  mornin,  every  hour  since  I first  darkened  his 
doors.  But  sure  it’s  all  past  and  gone  now,  any  way.” 

'^Hold  your  peace,  woman,  and  go  to  your  room  in- 
stantly. Mr.  Guirkie  is  too  good  for  you.  Away,  and 
thank  God  you  have  such  a master.” 

''  0,  it’s  little  yer  honor  knows  about  him,  captain. 
■^Jy  ^Jy  little  you  know  about  him,  poor  man.  Och, 
hoch,  dear,  if  ye  lived  in  the  same  house  with  him,  as  I 
did  these  five  long  years  ! But  no  matter  now,  sure. 
God  forgive  him  as  I forgive  him ; and  that  he  may 
live  long  and  die  happy  is  all  the  harm  I wish  him. 
And  now  I wash  my  hands  of  him  forevermore.  I’ll 
never  — ” 

''  Mrs.  Motherly  ! ” 

0,  it’s  no  use,  it’s  no  use,  captain.  I can’t  stay, 
nor  I won’t  stay.  If  ye  went  down  on  yer  bended  knees 
to  me,  I’ll  never  close  an  eye  under  his  roof.  And  now 
let  him  find  one  that’ll  tie  his  cravat,  and  button  his  leg- 
gings, and  bathe  his  feet,  as  faithfully  and  constantly  as 
I did  for  these  five  long,  weary  years  ; and  if  he  does, 
then  all  I have  to  say  is,  let  him  forget  there  ever  was 
born  in  this  world  such  a woman  as  Nancy  Motherly.” 

Captain  Petersham,  have  the  goodness  to  step  this 
way,”  said  Father  Brennan,  opening  the  parlor  door, 
and  interrupting  the  conversation,  much  to  the  captain’s 
relief.  f 

The  disconsolate  housekeeper  entreated  his  honor  to 
wait  and  listen  to  her,  but  all  in  vain. 

Why,  how  now,”  exclaimed  the  latter,  throwing  his 
portly  person  on  the  sofa,  and  glancing  round  the  room  ; 

all  alone,  eh?  — where  have  they  gone  — Kate  and 
Mr.  Guirkie  ? ” 

**  Hush  ! don’t  speak  so  loud.  They’re  all  three  in- 
side, there.” 

All  three  — who’s  the  third  ? ” 

One  you  would  never  dream  of  seeing  here  — Roger 
O’Shaughnessy.” 

0,  it’s  Roger,  is  it  ? ” 


310 


MAEY  LEE,  Oil 


Yes  ; the  old  man,  it  appears,  came  up  this  morning 
from  the  lighthouse  to  sell  a picture  to  Mr.  Guirkie.^^ 

A picture  ? 

''  Mary,  you  know,  has  quite  a taste  for  painting,  and 
Roger^s  her  salesman.’^ 

Poor  thing  ! 

Only  for  that,  the  family  had  suffered  long  ago.^^ 
'"You  astonish  me  ; are  they  really  so  very  desti- 
tute ? 

So  I^m  informed.  Indeed,  from  what  I have  seen 
and  know  myself,  I believe  they  must  be  reduced  as  low 
as  they  can  be,  and  live.^^ 

God  bless  me  ! 

Why,  I thought  Kate  had  told  you  of  it.^^ 

No.  She  said  something,  I remember,  of  their  be- 
ing poor,  and  all  that,  but  never  hinted  at  any  danger  of 
their  suffering.  By  the  Lord  Harry,  sir,  this  can^t  be. 
It  shan^t  be.  The  thought  of  Mary  Lee  in  distress  ac- 
tually frightens  me.^^ 

And  then,  she^s  so  patient  and  gentle,^^  said  Father 
John  ; never  seen  but  with  a smile  on  her  face.  Work- 
ing at  her  easel  through  the  long  day,  and  often  far  into 
the  night,  with  old  Drake  sleeping  by  her  side  as  she 
plies  her  brush  — working,  working,  without  complaint 
or  murmur,  to  earn  the  bare  necessaries  of  life  for  her 
beloved  uncle,  and  that  good  old  man  who  has  followed 
them  so  faithfully,  in  their  fallen  fortunes. 

She^s  a delightful  creature,’^  exclaimed  the  captain. 

1 wish  to  the  Lord  she  could  be  induced  to  come  and 
stay  with  Kate  at  Castle  Gregory.  I would  be  a brother 
to  her  as  long  as  she  lived. 

She  never  would  consent  to  part  with  her  uncle  and 
old  Roger. 

Then,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  let  them  all  three  come. 
Castle  Gregory's  large  enough.  As  for  me,  I suppose  I 
must  remain  an  old  bachelor,  since  there^s  no  help  for  it. 
Lee^s  an  honest,  kind-hearted,  generous  fellow  himself,  as 
ever  broke  the  world’s  bread  ; and  I should  take  it  as  a 
favor  if  he  came  and  took  up  his  quarters  with  me  at  the 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


311 


old  castle.  By  George,  I must  call  down  in  the  Water 
Hen  to-morrow,  and  see  him  about  it.^^ 

Don^t  speak  too  fast,  captain,  said  the  priest. 

Have  a little  patience.  There^s  a mystery  now  solv- 
ing in  that  room,  which  may  balk  you,  perhaps,  of  your 
generous  purpose. 

Mystery  ! 

Yes.  Shall  I tell  you  what  it  is  ? or  have  you  time 
to  hear  it  ? The  court  sits  at  noon  — does  it  not  ? 

'^Hang  the  court  ! Go  on  with  the  mystery. 

Well,  Roger  has  been  selling  pictures  to  our  friend, 
Mr.  Guirkie,  it  appears,  for  the  last  six  months  or  more, 
and,  queer  enough,  never  imagined  for  a moment  the 
purchaser  had  the  least  suspicion  of  the  artist  — having 
passed  himself  off  as  a picture  dealer  from  Derry  ; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Guirkie  was  well  aware 
of  the  secret,  and  all  the  time  kept  buying  her  pieces, 
and  indulging  his  good,  kind  heart  by  paying  double 
prices. 

''  Ho,  ho  ! I understand.  Roger  was  unwilling  to  ex- 
pose the  poverty  of  the  family,  and  therefore  went  under 
an  assumed  name.^^ 

Precisely.  Well,  this  morning,  it  seems,  he  started 
from  the  lighthouse  to  sell  a picture,  as  usual.  When 
he  reached  here,  he  felt  rather  shy  about  coming  in, 
lest  he  might  happen  to  meet  somebody  who  had  seen 
him  before,  and  would  recognize  him.  So,  sitting  down 
under  the  window,  to  wait  for  an  opportunity  of  see- 
ing Mr.  Guirkie  alone,  and  feeling  somewhat  fatigued, 
perhaps,  after  his  long  journey,  he  fell  fast  asleep.  In 
that  position'  Mr.  Guirkie  discovered  him,  with  the  pic- 
ture carefully  concealed  under  the  breast  of  his  coat, 
just  as  Kate  entered  the  parlor.  You  heard  the  shriek 
he  gave  when  the  portrait  met  his  eye,  I suppose. 

Shriek  — no,  I heard  no  shriek.  Portrait  ! why, 
what  does  that  mean  ? 

It  means  that  he  recognized  the  likeness,  and  in  so 
doing,  almost  lost  his  senses.  But  wait,  3^ou  shall  hear. 
In  the  first  place,  it  happened  to  be  a copy  Mary  had 


312 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


taken  of  her  mother^s  portrait,  which  Roger  carried 
off,  either  by  mistake,  or  because  he  could  find  no  other 
ready/ ^ 

Yes,  very  well — go  on,’^  said  the  captain,  impa- 
tiently ; it  don^t  matter  which/’ 

And  this  very  portrait  now  reveals  the  whole  mys- 
tery/’ 

The  mystery ! There,  you’re  at  it  again.  Mys- 
tery ! — Good  Heavens,  sir,  can’t  you  tell  me  what 
mystery  you  mean  ? Excuse  me  Mr.  Brennan ; but 
you  know  how  deeply  interested  I feel  in  every  thing 
that  regards  this  girl  — and  then  you’re  so  tedious.” 

Have  patience  a little  longer  and  I’ll  explain,”  said 
the  priest,  smiling.  You  are  already  aware  that  Mr. 
Guirkie  has  been  for  the  last  five  years  in  the  habit 
of  visiting,  once  a week,  the  old  churchyard  of  Rath- 
mullen,  and  that  nobody  could  tell  his  reason  or  motive 
for  so  doing.” 

Certainly,  every  one  in  the  parish  knows  that  — 
well  ? ” 

And  you  remember  to  have  heard  Mr.  Guirkie  tell 
how  he  saw  a young  lady  quitting  the  churchyard  sev- 
eral times,  as  he  entered  ? ” 

Yes.” 

And  that  he  thought,  or  fancied  he  thought,  the 
figure  of  that  lady  greatly  resembled  Mary  Lee.  Well, 
it  now  turns  out,  that  our  dear  old  friend  and  Mary  have 
been  all  along  visiting  the  same  grave.” 

Hah  ! the  same  grave  1 ” 

Yes,  the  grave  of  her  — mother  ! ” 

You  surprise  me  ! her  mother  I Are  not  the  Lees 
strangers  here  ? ” 

Yes.  But  you  recollect  the  circumstances  of  the 
wreck  of  the  Saldana,  and  how  the  body  of  a woman, 
wearing  a gold  crucifix  on  her  neck,  with  the  name 
of  Harriet  Talbot  engraved  on  the  back,  was  cast  ashore, 
and  interred  in  Rathmullen  churchyard.  That  woman 
was  Mary  Lee’s  mother.” 

**  Good  Heavens  ! Mary  Lee’s  mother  ? ” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


313 


Yes,  sir,  Mary^s  mother/^ 

Humph  ! and  so  that  accounts  for  those  strange 
rumors  we  heard  of  the  white  lady  and  gentleman,  seen 
so  often  quitting  the  churchyard  and  sailing  down  the 
S willy  on  moonlit  nights.  But  what  business  had  Mr. 
Guirkie  at  her  mother^s  grave,  eh  ? 

That^s  the  secret, replied  the  priest. 

The  secret ! confusion  ! to  the  — But  no  matter 
— no  matter  ; have  your  own  way^  have  your  own  way. 
I shall  ask  no  more  questions.  I suppose  you’ll  tell  it 
some  time  — when  it  suits  you.  By  George,  sir,  you’re 
the  most  circum — ” 

Captain,  dear,”  said  Mrs.  Motherly,  opening  the 
door  gently  and  cutting  the  word  in  two,  I want  — ” 

Want ! What  the  fury  do  you  want  ? ” thundered 
the  provoked  captain. 

''  Only  one  word,  yer  honor,  afore  I go.  It’s  about 
the  master’s  flannels.  I’m  afeerd  — ” 

Confound  your  master’s  flannels.  To  blazes  with 
them  ; what  have  I to  do  with  your  master’s  flannels  ? ” 
he  exclaimed  furiously  ; begone  this  instant ! ” 

I’ll  not  keep  ye  one  minute,  yer  honor.  I’m  only 
afraid  Mr.  Guirkie’ll  ketch  his  death  o’  cold.” 

Woman,  quit  the  room ! ” 

Away,  away,  Mrs.  Motherly,”  said  the  priest,  inter- 
posing good-naturedly,  and  closing  the  door  ; I shall 
become  your  intercessor  with  Mr.  Guirkie  as  soon  as 
possible  ; but  don’t  quit  the  house,  by  any  means,  till  I 
see  you  again.” 

''  What  now  ? ” cried  Kate,  stepping  from  the  little 
room  in  which  she  had  been  closeted  all  this  time  with 
Mr.  Guirkie,  and  laying  her  hand  on  the  captain’s 
shoulder.  What  now  ? Brother,  how  is  this  ? out 
of  temper,  eh  ? What’s  the  matter  ? ” 

The  mischief’s  the  matter.  Between  Father  Bren- 
nan’s mystery,  and  Mrs.  Motherly’s  importunity,  and 
those  confounded  constables,  I’m  almost  crazy.” 

Well,  well,  brother  Tom,  you’re  so  impatient,  you 
21 


314 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


know,  and  so  impetnons.  Hush,  now ! not  a word. 
Listen  — I have  something  to  tell  you/^ 

What  ? 

About  Uncle  Jerry 

''  Well,  what  of  him  ? Has  he  had  a fit . is  he  dy- 
ing ? is  he  dead  ? 

''  No,  not  exactly  that — but,  there^s  a — mystery  — 
in  h.’’ 

Mystery  ! — d — n the  mystery  ! — there  it^s  again  ! 
Mystery,  well,  if  this  isn^t  enough  to  provoke  — away  ! 
stand  ofi*!  Ull  be  humbugged  no  longer.  Let  me  pass 
— I must  see  him  instantly  — away  ! begone  ! 

You  shall  not,  captain, cried  Kate,  endeavoring  to 
prevent  him  ; you  shall  not.^^ 

By  the  Lord  Harry,  I shall,  though. 

''  Nay,  nay  — it^s  a very  delicate  afiair,  brother;  and 
indeed  he41  never  forgive  you  if  you  do  — you  know 
how  bashful  and  sensitive  he  is.^^ 

Is  he  still  insensible  ? inquired  Father  John. 

Quite  so, responded  Kate;  ^^he  has  not  moved  a 
muscle  since  he  saw  the  picture. 

Insensible  ! repeated  the  captain;  then,  Kate, 
be  it  delicate  or  indelicate,  Fll  see  my  old  friend,  think 
what  you  please  about  it ; and  freeing  himself  from  his 
sister^s  grasp,  he  advanced  and  opened  the  door  of  the 
adjoining  room. 

The  first  object  which  met  his  view  was  Mr.  Guirkie 
himself,  seated  at  a table  on  which  lay,  what  appeared  to 
be,  a framed  picture  some  eight  or  ten  inches  square. 
His  forehead  rested  on  his  hands,  and  his  eyes  seemed 
riveted  to  the  canvas.  Indeed,  so  absorbed  was  he, 
that  the  noise  which  the  captain  made  in  forcing  open 
the  door  seemed  not  to  disturb  him  in  the  least.  When 
Kate  saw  her  brother  gazing  so  intently  at  Mr.  Guirkie, 
she  suddenly  ceased  speaking,  and  gently  passing  him  by, 
took  her  place  behind  Uncle  Jerry^s  chair.  All  was  si- 
lence now.  Old  Roger  stood  leaning  his  back  against 
the  wall,  looking  down  pensively  on  the  floor ; Kate, 
like  a guardian  angel,  took  her  stand  by  the  side  of  her 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


315 


unconscious  friend  ; the  priest  laid  his  hands  against  the 
door  casing  and  peeped  in  ; and  the  boisterous,  burly 
captain,  so  noisy  but  a moment  before,  remained  on  the 
threshold  silent  and  motionless  as  a statue. 

''  Look  ! said  the  priest,  whispering  over  the  cap- 
tain’s shoulder,  and  pointing  to  the  picture. 

What  1 ” 

Don’t  you  see  something  drop  — drop  ? — listen  ! 
You  can  almost  hear  them  falling  on  the  canvas.” 

Tears  ? ” 

Yes.” 

God  bless  me  : I don’t  like  to  see  him  weep.  Shall 
I wake  him  up  ? ” 

No,  no,”  said  Kate  ; let  him  weep  on.” 

**  But,  Kate,  what  portrait  is  that  — eh  ? ” 

The  likeness  of  a long-lost  friend  — Mary  Lee’s 
mother.” 

Long-lost  friend  — Mary  Lee’s  mother  ? ” 

**  Yes  ; the  only  woman  he  ever  loved.  Old  Eoger, 
here,  will  tell  you  all  about  it,  some  time  when  he  has 
more  leisure.” 

It’s  onl}’’  now  I could  recognize  him,  your  hon- 
or,” said  Roger,  though  I seen  him  many  a time  this 
twelvemonth  past.  Years,  you  know,  make  a great 
change  in  us.” 

Kate,  I must  try  to  rouse  him,”  said  the  captain  ; 

I cannot  bear  to  see  those  tears  falling  there  so  silently 
on  the  canvas — it’s  very  unpleasant.” 

"'Not  yet  — not  yet,”  remonstrated  Kate,  motioning 
back  the  captain  with  her  hand  ; " let  the  faithful  soul 
indulge  his  rapturous  reverie.  These  are  not  tears  of 
anguish,  brother,  but  of  love.  0,  think  of  the  love  of  that 
heart,  after  an  absence  of  twenty  years.  Surely,  surely 
such  love  is  not  of  earth,  but  of  heaven  ; so  pure,  so 
gentle,  so  enduring.  A wanderer  over  the  wide  world, 
seeking  solace  for  a widowed  heart,  ho  returns  to  his 
native  land,  and  after  years  of  patient  search,  discovers 
her  lowly  tomb  at  last  among  the  ruins  of  Rathmullen 
Abbey.  Week  after  week,  for  six  long  years,  has  he 


316 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


visited  that  tomb.  Every  stain  which  the  mildew  had 
left  on  the  humble  slab  that  bears  her  name  he  has  oblit- 
erated, and  every  letter  the  moss  of  years  had  filled  up 
he  has  lovingly  renewed.  0,  tell  me  not,  Father  John,’^ 
continued  Kate,  her  cheeks  flushed  with  the  emotions  of 
her  heart,  ''  tell  me  not,  that  the  pure,  gentle,  blessed 
love  of  the  olden  time  has  all  died  out  from  the  hearts 
of  men.  No,  no,  no  — God  is  love,  and  God  never  dies. 
Noble,  generous,  faithful  heart ! cried  the  enraptured 
girl,  bursting  herself  into  tears,  and  falling  at  Uncle 
Jerry ^s  feet,  she  removed  his  hand  from  his  forehead  and 
kissed  it  with  enthusiastic  affection.  0 that  I had  but 
studied  this  book  more  carefully ! how  much  more  I 
should  have  learned  of  the  beautiful  and  the  good. 
How  cold  and  insipid  are  all  printed  words,  compared 
with  the  blessed  teachings  of  a heart  like  thine  ! Mary 
Lee,  Mary  Lee,  angel  or  woman,  whatever  thou  art, 
would  to  God  he  could  now  look  on  thy  seraphic  face, 
and  press  thee  — 

Mary  Lee,^^  repeated  Mr.  Guirkie,  at  last  breaking 
silence  and  looking  on  the  face  of  the  suppliant  girl, 
while  the  tears  still  glistened  on  his  own, — ''Mary 
Lee ! I think  I have  heard  the  name  before.  Poor 
Mary  Lee  ! Are  you  Mary  Lee  ? 

" No,  no,^^  replied  Kate  ; " I am  but  a child  of  earth 
— your  own  poor,  foolish,  loving  Kate  Petersham.’^  As 
Kate  spoke,  she  motioned  to  the  beholders  to  quit  the 
room,  for  she  dreaded  the  effect  an  exposure  of  his  weak- 
ness before  the  bantering  captain  might  produce  on  a 
mind  so  sensitive  as  his ; and  fully  appreciating  the 
delicacy  of  her  fears,  they  withdrew  silently  from  the 
apartment  and  closed  the  door,  before  Mr.  Guirkie^s  con- 
sciousness had  completely  returned.  And,  dear  reader, 
we  must  withdraw  also,  for  the  time  of  court-session  is 
already  past,  and  Mr.  Eobert  Hardwrinkle  is  anxiously 
looking  from  the  court  house  door  in  the  direction  of 
Greenmount,  and  wondering  what  can  detain  the  chair- 
man of  the  bench,  or  why  he  should  presume  to  keep  a 
gentleman  of  his  importance  waiting  so  long. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


317 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

The  Priest  and  Dr.  Henshaw. — The  Influence  of  Catho- 
licity. — Its  attractive  and  repulsive  Features.  — The 
Priest^ s Garden  and  the  old  Tombstone. 

Father  John,  having  waited  to  see  Mr.  Guirkie  com- 
pletely restored  to  his  usual  equanimity,  and  Captain 
Petersham  in  the  saddle  ready  to  set  off  for  the  court 
house,  took  the  near  cut  over  the  hill,  and  soon  reached 
his  humble  home.  On  his  arrival,  the  servant  handed 
him  a letter,  and  informed  him  that  several  persons  had 
called,  and  among  the  rest  Else  Curley  of  the  Cairn,  who 
expressed  great  anxiety  to  see  him  before  the  court 
opened.  Mr.  'Hardwrinkle  also  bad  sent  his  man  in 
haste  to  say  that  a riot  was  apprehended  in  the  event 
of  Barry ^s  committal,  and  requesting  Father  Brennan^s 
presence  to  maintain  order  and  assist  the  magistrates  in 
the  discharge  of  their  duty. 

A very  modest  request,  upon  my  word,^^  said  the 
priest,  opening  the  letter,  and  seating  himself  quietly  in 
his  easy  chair  to  read  it.  Very  modest,  indeed  ; but  I 
have  a duty  of  my  own  to  discharge  at  present. 

The  letter  ran  as  follows  : — 

"'My  Reverend  Friend:  The  blow  I have  so  long 
been  evading  has  fallen  at  last.  My  creditors  have  dis- 
covered my  retreat,  and  placed  a writ  for  my  immediate 
arrest  in  the  hands  of  the  sheriff.  I leave  here  to-mor- 
row, by  daybreak,  and  cross  over  to  Malin  Head ; but 
where,  after  that,  fate  only  must  determine.  What  is  to 
become  of  poor  Mary,  God  alone  can  tell.  For  the 
present,  at  least,  you  must  be  her  protector,  for  I know 
of  no  other  to  whose  care  I could  intrust  so  precious  a 
charge.  I should  much  rather,  for  my  own  part,  go  to 
jail  and  weather  out  the  storm  as  best  I might  ; but  the 
thought  of  my  incarceration  would  take  the  dear  child^s 
21* 


318 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


life.  I must  quit  this  place  to-morrow,  too,  without  see- 
ing her  ; for  I never  could  summon  courage  enough  to 
bid  her  farewell.  The  furniture  here  will,  of  course,  be 
sold  for  debt.  Save  the  old  Bible  and  harpsichord,  if 
you  can.  They  are  of  little  value,  to  be  sure,  to  any 
body  ; but  still  they  are  links  — alas  I the  only  links  left 
us  now  — to  connect  us  with  the  past.  If  you  speak  a 
kind  word  to  the  captain  about  old  Roger,  I^m  sure  he 
won't  let  him  want.  Be  kind  to  Mary,  and  comfort  the 
poor  child  in  my  absence. 

God  bless  you. 

Yours,  faithfully,  E.  Lee." 

John!  " cried  the  priest,  as  he  read  the  letter  — 

John  1 " 

^^Sir." 

''Take  the  horse  and  gig  immediately,’ and  drive  as 
fast  as  possible  to  the  lighthouse.  Give  my  compliments 
to  Mr.  Lee,  say  I received  his  note,  and  tell  him  to  come 
up  without  a moment's  delay,  and  bring  Miss  Lee  with 
him.  You  understand  ? " 

" Yes,  sir." 

"And  see  here  — don't  wait  to  feed  the  horse,  but 
go  at  once." 

" No,  sir." 

" Let  Mr.  Lee  have  the  gig,  since  he  has  no  convey- 
ance of  his  own,  and  you  can  return  on  foot  at  your 
leisure." 

" Certainly,  sir." 

When  the  servant  closed  the  door  the  priest  leaned 
back  in  his  chair  and  composed  himself  to  read  vespers. 
And  a snug,  pleasant  little  room  it  was,  that  parlor  of 
Father  John's,  to  read  or  pray  in,  with  its  latticed  win- 
dows looking  down  on  the  placid  face  of  the  beautiful 
Mulroy,  now  sleeping  calmly  in  the  bosom  of  the  hills. 
Close  by  the  side  of  the  humble  edifice  grew  a long  line 
of  gooseberry  and  currant  bushes,  and  up  from  between 
them,  here  and  there,  the  honeysuckle  stretched  its  long 
neck  into  the  open  windows.  Out  before  the  door  stood 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


319 


an  old  elm  tree,  majestic  and  lonely  in  the  centre  of  the 
grass  plot,  spreading  its  giant  branches  far  and  wide 
over  house  and  garden.  Many  a name  was  carved  on 
that  sturdy  old  trunk  in  its  day,  and  many  a time  the 
priest  and  his  good  old  reverend  uncle  sat  on  the  stone 
bench  together,  and  leaned  back  against  it  in  the  summer 
evenings,  to  say  the  rosary  and  tell  the  beads.  And 
there,  too,  round  about  grew  many  a flower  of  native 
growth,  fresh  and  fair,  simple  and  modest,  like  the  virgin 
whose  altar  they  were  intended  to  decorate  — the  moun- 
tain daisy,  white  as  snow  ; the  primrose,  its  faithful  com- 
panion, at  its  side  ; the  cowslip,  with  the  dew  always  on 
its  face ; and  the  lily  of  the  valley,  hiding  its  head  in 
the  grass,  as  if  it  had  no  right  to  occupy  a place  in  the 
world  at  all.  These  and  such  as  these  were  the  only 
tenants  of  that  modest  garden,  0,  well  we  remember  it 
— that  garden  where  none  but  wild  flowers  grew  — those 
pretty  wild  flowers,  nature^s  own  spontaneous  offering. 
And  every  morning  would  the  priest  pluck  a bunch  to 
scatter  on  the  shrine  of  the  virgin,  as  he  ascended  her 
altar  to  say  the  holy  mass,  knowing  well  she  loved  them 
best ; for  it  was  such  as  these  Joseph  used  to  gather  for 
her,  long  ago,  by  the  wayside,  when  his  work  of  the  day 
was  done. 

Down  below  the  garden,  and  over  the  copse  which  lay 
between,  appeared  the  whitewashed  walls  of  Massmount 
Chapel,  rising  from  the  water’s  edge,  and  on  either  side 
facing  the  sea,  the  white  gravestones  peeped  out  from 
the  long  grass  and  tangled  fern.  But  in  that  solitary 
spot  there  was  one  particular  grave,  on  which  the  priest’s 
eye  often  loved  to  rest,  as  he  sat  by  the  window  gazing 
down  on  the  old  churchyard.  It  was  the  grave  of  an 
old  and  long-cherished  friend  — of  one  who  found  him 
in  his  early  days  an  exile  and  a wanderer,  and  took  him 
into  his  house  and  heart ; one  who  paused  not  to  ask  the 
poor  wayfarer  from  what  nation  he  came  or  whither  he 
went  — for  his  big  heart  knew  no  distinction  of  birth  or 
race  ; who  lavished  on  him  all  the  loving  fondness  of 
a father,  and  at  last  took  him  by  the  hand  and  led  him 


820 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


within  the  sanctuary.  On  that  humble  slab,  covering 
the  old  man^s  grave,  the  priest^s  eyes  often  rested,  as  he 
sat  by  the  window  of  his  little  parlor ; and  often  he 
sighed  and  longed  for  the  day  to  come  when  he  might 
see  that  stone  replaced  by  a monument  worthier  the 
great  and  holy  heart  that  slept  beneath  it.  But,  alas  I 
he  sighed  in  vain ; for  he  was  poor,  and  his  love  alone 
could  never  raise  it. 

Dear  reader,  many  a noble  heart  lies  mouldering  in  a 
forgotten  grave ; and  many  a grave  on  which  gratitude 
should  have  erected  a monument  to  virtue,  lies  deserted 
and  abandoned  to  the  nettle  and  the  dockweed.  We 
have  seen  such  in  our  own  day.  Alas,  alas  ! that  the 
world  should  be  so  ungrateful. 

Once  upon  a time  we  stood  beside  an  open  grave  on  a 

green  hill-side  in  N E . It  was  a grave  in 

whicli  the  mortal  remains  of  a great  and  good  man  were 
soon  to  be  deposited  — a man  whose  virtues  were  the 
theme  of  every  tongue.  And  well  they  might,  for  never 
breathed  a purer  soul,  nor  throbbed  a nobler  heart  than 
his.  At  once  unaffectedly  simple  and  unconsciously 
sublime,  his  nature  was  a compound  of  the  finest  quali- 
ties of  the  Christian  and  the  gentleman,  without  a single 
jarring  element  to  mar  its  modest  grandeur.  • 

The  funeral  procession  at  length  reached  the  spot,  and 
the  coffin  was  laid  beside  the  grave  with  the  lid  thrown 
open,  that  the  mourners  might  look  on  the  face  of  the 
dead  for  the  last  time.  Never  was  seen  such  a crowd  as 
that  morning  gathered  there.  Fathers  and  mothers  lead- 
ing their  little  children  by  the  hand,  and  young  men  with 
bearded  lip,  and  old  men  with  hoary  heads,  were  there, 
and  strangers  from  distant  cities  were  there,  and  bishops 
in  purple  cassocks,  and  priests  in  black  stole  and  surplice. 
Kneeling  on  the  greensward,  the  incense  rose,  and  the 
psalm  was  sung,  and  the  people  of  high  and  low  degree 
mingled  together,  and  prayed  for  the  repose  of  his  soul ; 
and  whilst  they  prayed  their  tears  fell  thick  and  fast.  It 
was  a sad  but  glorious  sight  to  see  that  multitude  weep- 
ing and  prostrate  that  morning  before  the  open  coffin  ; 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


321 


and  gazing  on  his  face,  they  saw  it  still  beaming  with 
that  look  of  love  which  ever  marked  it  through  life  ; nay, 
he  seemed  at  that  moment  as  if  making  them  his  last 
appeal  for  an  affectionate  remembrance.  And  each  one 
answered  the  appeal  by  a silent  vow  — a vow  to  honor, 
to  gratitude,  and  to  God  — made  while  they  gazed  on 
his  face  through  their  tears — made  with  their  hands 
upon  his  coflSn  — a vow  never  to  forget  him. 

Ten  years  passed  away,  and  again,  after  many  wan- 
derings, we  returned  to  that  green  hill-side,  and  looked 
round  for  the  monument  which  that  crowd  of  loving 
hearts  had  erected  to  the  memory  of  their  benefactor 
and  friend.  What  seek  you,  stranger  ? said  an  old 
man,  seated  on  the  grass  by  a little  mound  of  clay. 

The  monument  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  illus- 
trious — Here  it  is,^^  he  replied,  laying  his  hand 

on  the  sod  beside  him.  That ! Yes,  this  is  the  mon- 
ument ; I have  just  been  sowing  a few  flower  seeds  at 
his  feet.^^  But  his  friends  ! we  inquired.  Friends 
repeated  the  old  man,  smiling  bitterly.  Yes,  that  mighty 
multitude  which  ten  years  ago  we  saw  weeping  and  wail- 
ing here  before  his  unburied  corpse  — what  has  become 
of  them  ? Dead.^’  What,  all  dead  ! Ay,  they 

all  died  on  the  day  of  his  burial  — all  save  one  and  my- 
self. That  one  comes  often  here  to  say  a prayer  and 
drop  a tear  on  the  grave,  for  living  and  dying  he  loved 
him  best  of  all  the  world.  But  alas  I he  is  poor,  and 
those  whom  he  trusted  to  for  help  have  proved  ungrate- 
ful.^^ Nay,  say  not  so,  old  man,^^  we  replied  ; “ may- 
hap he  has  not  solicited  their  aid.  It  were  sad  indeed  to 
think  — Solicit ! he  repeated,  again  interrupt- 

ing me  ; "'no,  he  could  never  do  that  — the  peculiarity 
of  his  relations  with  the  dead  forbade  it.  But,  friend, 
he  added,  true  gratitude  never  waits  for  time,  nor 
place,  nor  man  to  call  forth  its  expression. 

Pardon  us,  dear  reader,  for  this  digression.  Perhaps 
it  is  out  of  place,  but  for  the  life  of  us  we  couldn^t  help 
making  it. 

Father  Brennan  had  but  little  more  than  commenced  to 


322 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


read  his  office,  when  the  parlor  door  opened,  and  a ser- 
vant announced  a visitor.  Presently  our  old  acquaint- 
ance, Dr.  Henshaw,  entered,  and  the  priest  instantly 
laid  his  breviary  on  the  table,  and  rose  to  receive  him. 

Dr.  Henshaw,  this  is  very  kind.  Fm  very  much 
pleased  to  see  you  — pray  be  seated.^^ 

Sir,  you^ll  excuse  me  ; I merely  called  to  return  this 
volume  of  Bailly^s  Theology,  and  to  thank  you  for  your 
hospeetality  before  I leave. 

Ah ! then  I see  you’re  still  angry  with  me,  doctor ; 
and,  indeed,  not  without  some  show  of  reason,  for  I may, 
in  a moment  of  irritation,  have  said  more  than  was 
becoming  in  the  presence  of  strangers.  Still  we  must 
not  indulge  resentment,  you  know.” 

More  than  was  becoming.  Why,  sir,  you  said  what 
was  both  offensive  and  unjust,”  replied  the  doctor, 
gruffly. 

''  Perhaps  so.  If  I did,  I sincerely  regret  it.” 

**  But,  sir,  your  regret  is  not  enough.  In  justice  to 
me,  you  are  bound  to  retract  the  charges  you  made 
against  me  in  presence  of  the  parties  before  whom  you 
made  tliem.” 

That  I shall,  sir,  most  willingly.  Whatever  those 
parties  may  think  unjustifiable  in  the  language  I used 
that  night,  I am  ready  to  retract  and  apologize  for. 
What  I said.  Dr.  Henshaw,  merely  regarded  your  invet- 
erate habit  of  intruding  your  faith  into  every  thing. 
Why,  you  had  hardly  been  five  minutes  conversing  with 
Miss  Petersham,  when  you  told  her  she  would  certainly 
be  damned  if  she  didn’t  renounce  Protestantism  and  join 
the  Catholic  church  forthwith.” 

And  why  not  tell  her  so  at  once,  sir?  where’s  the 
use  of  dilly-dallying  about  it  ? Humph  ! it’s  charity, 
sir,  to  let  them  see  the  whole  truth  at  a glance  — I say 
it’s  charity,  sir.” 

And  as  a consequence  of  that  charity,”  subjoined 
the  priest,  '^they’re  both  shocked  and  disgusted.” 

''Be  it  so — the  sooner  shocked,  the  better.  Protes- 
tantism is  a chronic  disease,  sir,  and  it’s  by  no  syllabubs 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


323 


and  sirups  you  can  cure  it ; no,  sir,  but  by  the  most 
searching  medicine,  administered  vary  frequently  and  in 
large  doses. 

Such  treatment,  I fear,  would  more  likely  kill  than 
cure,'^  said  the  priest. 

''  I maintain  the  contrary,  sir.  Error  should  be  taken 
by  the  horns,  and  no  by  the  tail.  I have  seen  how  you 
converse  with  that  girl  — Miss  Petersham  ; why,  you 
talk  to  her,  sir,  as  if  you  weroi  making  an  apology  for  the 
severity  of  Catholic  deescipline,  and  the  conservatism  of 
Catholic  doctrine.  Hoot,  sir,  you  can  never  make  a 
Catholic  of  her  by  such  a course  of  training  as  that/^ 

You  think  so  ? 

Most  assuredly,  sir.^^ 

And  yet  she  is  preparing  to  join  the  church  in  a few 
days.^^ 

''  I can  hardly  believe  it,  Mr.  Brennan.^’ 

Why  not  ? 

Why,  she  hasn^t  the  look  of  a convert. 

What,  because  she  don^t  appear  grave  and  solemn  ? 

No.  But  her  deportment  is  not  like  that  of  a girl 
desirous  of  saving  her  soul.  She’s  cracked,  sir,  or,  as 
we  say  in  Scotland,  she’s  ‘clean  daft.’” 

“By  no  manner  of  means,  doctor ; you  mistake  her 
character  altogether.  Under  all  that  apparent  thought- 
lessness lies  concealed  a fund  of  natural  piety  and  love 
of  truth,  which,  if  you  only  knew  her  as  I do,  would 
surprise  you.  Kate  Petersham  is  not  a Scotch  girl,  you 
know,  to  look  glum,  and  shake  her  head  like  a ‘ canny’ 
Presbyterian  ; nor  English  either,  to  wait  for  the  slow 
conviction  of  her  intellect  before  she  surrenders  the 
heart ; but  a genuine,  true-blooded  Irish  girl,  inheriting 
the  enthusiasm  and  impulsiveness  of  her  race,  whose 
soul  feels  the  divine  attractions  of  religion  drawing  her 
to  its  bosom,  long  before  her  mind  recognizes  its  pres- 
ence. Like  all  Irish  girls,  Kate  is  playful,  witty,  light- 
hearted, and  tries  ever  to  hide  her  piety  under  an  aflect- 
ed  recklessness.  She  will  steer  the  Water-Hen  in  the 
teeth  of  a gale,  or  ride  Moll  Pitcher,  at  a steeple  chase, 


324 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


over  breakneck  walls,  when  the  humor  takes  her  ; but 
see  her  in  her  closet,  when  she  shuts  the  door  against 
human  eyes,  and  you^ll  find  her  a very  different  being. 
Yes,  sir,  Kate  is  an  Irish  girl  in  every  sense  of  the  term 
— generous,  impulsive,  wayward,  if  you  will  — but  with 
a heart  full  of  true  piety,  and  a disposition  as  humble 
and  gentle  as  a child’s. 

Humph  ! ” ejaculated  the  doctor;  and  may  I ask, 
sir,  after  this  extraordinary  eulogium,  how  you  set  about 
her  conversion  ? ” 

'"Not  by  dosing  her  with  dogmas,  anathemas,  and 
pliilosophy,  I assure  you,”  replied  the  priest,  smiling. 

''  No,  that’s  not  your  method,  I perceive.  You  began, 
I suppose,  like  all  others  of  the  old  school,  by  pushing 
her  down  gently  from  Protestantism  into  infidelity,  and 
when  she  could  go  no  farther,  led  her  up  again  by  the 
old  negative  process,  step  by  step,  through  all  the  isms 
into  the  true  church.” 

'"No,  sir,  that  course  would  only  have  confused  with- 
out converting  her.” 

And  what  then  ? ” 

I merely  pointed  out  to  her  the  beauties  of  our  holy 
religion,  and  sent  her  down  to  Mary  Lee  to  see  them 
illustrated.” 

''  Ah  ! Mary  Lee  — the  light-keeper’s  daughter?  ” 

Yes.  She  converted  Miss  Petersham  without  a word 
of  controversy  — converted  her  by  the  mere  example  of 
her  every-day  life.  It’s  precisely  to  the  force  of  similar 
example  we  owe  so  many  conversions,  by  the  Sisters  of 
Oharit}^  for  instance,  and  the  various  other  religious  so- 
cieties.” 

'^1  admit,  sir,  they  are  useful  in  their  way  — nay,  of 
great  advantage  as  helps  to  religion,  especially  as  regards 
the  weaker  sex ; but  men  of  intellect  must  be  treated 
otherwise,  sir.  Intellectual  men  need  intellectual  treat- 
ment ; and  whilst  your  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  so  forth, 
have  done  much,  and  are  still  doing  much,  in  their  own 
way,  there  is  still  need  of  men  who,  like  myself,  en- 
deavor, according  to  our  poor  abeelities,  to  defend  truth 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


325 


and  combat  error,  by  means  of  that  vary  pheelosophy, 
logic,  and  theology  you  seem  to  think  of  so  lightly. 
Each  in  his  own  sphere,  sir,  is  an  old  adage. 

Certainly,  and  a good  one,  too.  But  you  misappre- 
hend me,  doctor,  if  you  think  I disparage  one  or  the  other 
as  means  of  conversion.  Not  at  all.  I merely  say  you 
overrate  them,  and  give  too  little  credit,  in  your  account, 
to  the  grace  of  God  and  the  influence  of  example.  In 
fact,  sir,  like  the  majority  of  converts,  you  make  a mis- 
take in  the  very  beginning.  You  think  — or  seem  to 
think,  at  least  — that  nothing  has  been  done  in  the  church 
for  the  conversion  of  heretics  till  you  joined  her,  and  that 
in  the  ardor  and  freshness  of  your  zeal  you  are  expected 
to  make  up  for  the  neglect.  This  is  a grievous  error, 
doctor,  and  if  allowed  to  go  unchecked,  might  lead  to 
lamentable  consequences.  Take  yourself,  for  instance. 
Instead  of  studying,  like  a child,  the  primer  of  the  church, 
and  learning  therein  the  thousand  helps  to  salvation,  and 
the  thousand  beauties  to  be  found  in  her  ceremonies  and 
pious  observances,  you  leave  all  such  little  things  to  the 
ignorant,  and  jump  at  once  into  the  higher  region  of 
dogma,  without  the  slightest  preparatory  training.  The 
result  is,  that  you  often  introduce  subjects  in  your  writ- 
ings and  lectures  which  are  not  only  ill  timed  and  un- 
called for,  but  really  dangerous  in  hands  so  inexperienced 
as  yours.  I willingly  admit.  Dr.  Heushaw,  youh'e  a very 
able  writer.  Indeed,  in  that  department  of  letters  you 
have  chosen  as  the  field  of  your  operations,  you  have,  so 
far  as  I know,  very  few  equals.  But  the  greater  your 
abilities,  the  greater  the  danger  both  to  yourself  and  the 
church.  To  youself,  because  of  the  inordinate  pride  such 
talents  are  apt  to  generate,  and  to  the  church,  lest  your 
non-Catholic  readers  might  mistake  your  productions  for 
fair  specimens  of  the  true  tone  and  spirit  of  Catholicity. 
In  that  case  the  church  would  certainly  suffer ; for  I can- 
not help  telling  you,  doctor,  that  so  far,  at  least,  you 
have  only  presented  the  church  in  a repulsive  attitude. 

''  That  is,^^  replied  the  doctor,  smiling  serenely,  I 
have  not  tried  my  hand  at  namby-pambyism  yet.^^ 

28 


326 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


No.  You  certainly  have  not,  sir.  But  by  taking  the 
very  opposite  extreme  you  have,  in  my  opinion,  done 
very  little  good  to  religion.  What  pleasure  or  benefit 
can  you  find  in  the  use  of  such  .language  as  you  uttered 
that  night  at  Castle  Gregory  — and  not  only  there,  but 
wherever  you  had  ocaasion  to  speak  of  Protestantism  ? 
Then  your  profound  reasoning  and  subtle  logic,  on  the 
other  hand,  may  convince  intellects,  but,  be  assured  of 
it,  will  rarely  convert  hearts.  In  such  an  age  as  this, 
you  must  exhibit  the  church  under  her  most  alluring  and 
attractive  form,  or  you  will  make  no  true  converts.  Men 
will  read  your  elaborate  articles,  admire  your  vigorous 
thoughts  and  your  cogent  arguments,  but  their  hearts 
will  remain  untouched.  If  ever,  indeed,  by  such  a 
course,  you  do  succeed  in  bringing  a Protestant  within 
the  vestibule  of  the  church,  he  will  stand  there  like  a 
converted  philosopher,  scanning  the  books  of  the  new 
school  and  examining  the  principles  of  the  new  philoso- 
phy, but  he  will  hardly  fall  before  the  altar,  and  with 
heart  bowed  down  before  his  God,  acknowledge  himself 
a humble  and  penitent  child.  No,  sir  ; it^s  not  enough  to 
convince  the  intellect ; you  must  convert  the  heart,  also, 

or  you  will  make  no  converts.  Father  F r has  done 

more  for  the  conversion  of  souls,  in  the  smallest  and  least 
valuable  of  his  works,  than  you  have  ever  done,  or  ever 
will  do,  with  all  your  great  talents.  And  the  reason  is 
plain.  He  is  not  ambitious  — except,  indeed,  for  the 
promotion  of  God^s  glory,  and  the  happiness  of  his  fel- 
low-beings. His  thoughts,  as  he  writes,  are  never  of 
himself.  He  aims  not  at  the  admiration  of  men,  but  at 
their  salvation.  It  is  the  writings  of  such  converts  as  he 
is  we  want  to  see,  and  not  elaborate  essays  on  subjects 
neither  practical  nor  necessary.  If  you  want  to  make 
your  talents  useful  to  the  church,  don^t  strain  them  to 
reach  where  your  readers  can^t  follow  you,  but  write  for 
the  people  — write  for  the  millions,  sir,  not  for  theolo- 
gians and  philosophers.  If  you  do  that,  you  will  save 
your  own  soul,  and  convert  thousands  of  others  ; but,  if 
not,  I fear  you  will  lose  both.^^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


327 


Humph  ! ejaculated  Ilenshaw,  after  the  priest  had 
concluded  his  somewhat  long  speech,  and  buttoning  his 
coat,  as  if  preparing  to  leave — ''  I was  not  aware  that  I 
solicited  your  advice  in  the  matter ; if  I had,  no  doubt  I 
should  be  prepared  to  defer  to  it ; but  as  it  is  — 

''  Doctor,^^  interrupted  his  friend,  ''  I speak  my  senti- 
ments on  this  subject  openly  and  candidly,  and  at  the  risk 
of  giving  you  offence  ; but  I do  so  both  for  your  own 
sake  and  that  of  religion.  The  course  you^re  pursuing 
will  undoubtedly  prove,  in  the  end,  to  be  an  injudicious 
one  — and  you  will  only  have  the  mortification  of  know- 
ing, in  your  old  days,  if  you  persist  in  it,  that  the  church 
of  God  has  gained  nothing  by  your  advocacy. 

Here  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance 
of  a servant,  with  Captain  Petersham^s  compliments,  and 
his  request  to  see  Father  Brennan  at  the  court  house. 

Ah,  I expected  as  much,^^  said  the  latter.  This 
trial  of  young  Barry  has  just  commenced,  I suppose. 
Will  you  accompany  me,  doctor  ? 

No,  I should  rather  not,  just  now,^^  replied  Hen- 
shaw.  I have  some  preparation  to  make  before  leaving 
to-morrow. 

What ! going  so  soon  ! 

Yes  ; I must  return  by  to-morrow^s  packet. 

Why,  we  shan't  have  time  to  make  up  our  quarrel, 
then.  0,  you  mustn^t  think  of  it,  doctor. 

To-morrow  I shall  positively  start  for  Derry. 

Well,  well,  we  must  talk  of  that  again.  Come  with 
me  now,  for  an  hour  or  so,  to  the  court  house,  to  hear 
this  trial.  If  you  refuse,  I shall  say  you  parted  with  me 
in  anger.  Come,  we  are  old  friends,  doctor,  and  must 
not  get  estranged  for  trifles  — come  ; and  the  priest, 
after  several  unsuccessful  attempts,  at  length  prevailed 
on  his  discomfited  friend  to  accompany  him  to  the  court 
house. 


328 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Randall  Barry's  Trial.  — Kate  Petersham  on  Moll  Pitch- 
er. — She  balks  f hut  facing  the  Wall  a second  TimCj  clears 
it.  — The  Negro  on  the  Witness  Stand.  — Else  Curley 
comforts  Robert  Hardwrinkle. 

When  Father  Brennan,  accompanied  by  his  learned 
friend,  arrived  at  the  court  house  gate,  he  found  the  yard 
filled  with  people.  At  the  door  stood  two  or  three  po- 
licemen, with  bayonets  on  their  muskets,  keeping  out  the 
crowd,  now  clamorous  for  admission,  and  on  the  walls 
several  groups  of  men  and  boys,  peeping  in  through  the 
windows.  As  the  priest  made  his  appearance,  however, 
the  noise  ceased  for  a moment,  and  the  usual  whisper 
ran  round,  Ta  shin  saggarthj  ta  shin  saggarth" — There^s 
the  priest,  there^s  the  priest. 

Stand  back,^^  cried  a voice  in  a tone  of  authority ; 
stand  back,  and  let  his  reverence  pass.^^ 

The  priest  glanced  quickly  in  the  direction  of  the 
speaker. 

''  Who  is  that  ? " inquired  Henshaw. 

^'Lanty  Hanlon,  if  he^s  alive. 

''  What ! our  quondam  skipper  ? " 

The  very  man  — what  a fool-hardy  crack-brain  he  is 
to  come  here  after  carrying  off  Miss  Hardwrinkle.  He 
hasn’t  got  an  ounce  of  sense,  that  fellow.” 

Fall  back,”  shouted  the  policemen  ; fall  back,  and 
let  the  gentlemen  into  court.  Make  way,  there.” 

As  the  latter  gained  the  upper  step  at  the  court  house 
door,  a loud  cheer  suddenly  broke  from  the  crowd. 

''  Hurrah  ! there  she  comes,  the  darling ! ” 

So  ho  ! ” ejaculated  -Henshaw,  turning  on  his  step  ; 
**  what  now  ? ” 

Kate  Petersham  ! I declare  it  is.” 

Hurrah  ! ” shouted  the  same  voice  ; there  she 
comes,  on  Moll  Pitcher.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


329 


''  Hold  on/^  said  Henshaw. 

What^s  the  matter  ? 

Look  ! look  ! sir  ; she  faces  that  wall.’^ 

Pooh  ! that^s  nothing. 

Good  Heavens  ! sir,  she’ll  break  her  neck.” 

Not  a bit  of  it  — she  learned  to  ride  in  Galway.” 

It’s  sax  feet  high  — there  ! — hold,  her  horse  balks  ! ” 

Balks  ! that’s  strange,  eh  ! what  can  have  happened  ? 
something  she  shied  at,  I suspect.  Moll  Pitcher  was 
never  known  to  balk  in  her  life.” 

Whilst  the  priest  was  yet  speaking,  Kate  rode  her 
horse  close  up  again  to  the  wall,  as  if  to  show  her  the 
diflSculty  she  had  to  encounter,  and  then  wheeling  round 
cantered  back  for  another  start. 

She’ll  balk  again,”  said  Henshaw,  confidently. 

''  Wait  a while  — we’ll  see.” 

Every  voice  was  now  hushed,  and  every  eye  fixed  on 
the  rider,  for  the  leap  was  dangerous,  and  the  spectators, 
as  might  naturally  be  supposed,  felt  anxious  for  the  safe- 
ty of  their  favorite.  The  spot  where  she  tried  to  cross 
was  the  only  one  in  the  wall  accessible  for  a leap,  on  ac- 
count of  the  large  rocks  which  lay  along  either  side  for  a 
distance  of  a quarter  of  a mile  or  more  ; and  even  there 
the  ground  rose  so  abruptly  as  to  put  the  horse  to  a peril- 
ous disadvantage.  Had  the  rider  been  aware  of  the  dan- 
ger before  she  approached  the  leap,  very  likely  she  had 
ridden  round,  and  avoided  the  difficulty ; but  having  once 
made  the  attempt,  she  determined  to  risk  every  thing 
rather  than  fail.  Perhaps,  too,  the  sight  of  so  many 
spectators,  and  the  cheers  which  reached  her,  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  confirming  her  resolution. 

As  the  fearless  girl  turned  her  horse’s  head  to  the  wall, 
she  let  the  reins  drop  for  a moment,  and  leaning  over  on 
the  saddle,  tightened  the  girths  a hole  or  two ; then  ad- 
justing her  cap,  and  patting  the  spirited  animal  on  the 
neck,  again  cantered  along  at  an  easy  gait. 

Now  ! ” said  the  priest ; now  for  it ! ” 

The  girl  is  decidedly  mad,  sir,”  said  Henshaw. 

Hush  ! she  raises  the  whip.” 

28* 


330 


MARY  LEE,  OB 


Moll  Pitcher  knew  well  what  that  sign  meant,  and 
with  a snort  and  a toss  of  her  saucy  head,  sprang  forward 
with  the  fleetness  of  a greyhound. 

'' God  assist  her,^^  muttered  the  priest  to  himself: 
^^iPs  a frightful  risk/^ 

^^Amen,^^  replied  Henshaw,  catching  the  words; 
^^amen — though  she  don’t  deserve  it  — her  fool-hardi- 
ness is  unpardonable.” 

Now ! ” and  the  priest  unconsciously  seized  his 
friend’s  arm  — now  ! ” 

As  he  spoke,  Kate  again  raised  the  whip,  and  Moll 
Pitcher  rose  to  the  wall. 

For  a second  or  two  stillness  reigned  as  deep  as  death. 
If  the  animal  touched  the  wall  in  crossing,  horse  and 
rider  would  both,  in  all  probability,  have  been  seriously 
injured,  if  not  killed.  If  she  did  not,  there  was  still 
danger  from  the  broken,  stony  ground  on  the  opposite 
side. 

Hold  ! ” exclaimed  Henshaw,  they’re  both  down 
— good  Heavens,  sir,  they’re  killed!” 

The  mare  rose  and  stood  in  an  almost  perpendicular 
attitude  for  a second,  as  if  to  gather  all  her  strength  for 
the  effort.  It  was  an  instant  of  painful  anxiety  to  the 
spectators  ; but  it  was  only  an  instant,  for  in  the  next 
she  made  the  spring  and  crossed  without  touching  a 
stone,  the  foam  flying  from  her  mouth,  and  the  streamers 
from  her  rider’s  cap  floating  back  in  the  breeze. 

Hurrah  I hurrah  ! God  bless  her  I ” now  broke  in 
one  loud  burst  from  the  crowd  ; but  the  exclamation  was 
suddenly  checked,  for  it  was  soon  found  that  rider  and 
horse  had  both  fallen. 

'^The  girl’s  killed,”  exclaimed  Henshaw. 

God  forbid  ! ” replied  the  priest,  straining  his  eyes 
as  he  spoke.  But  she  has  certainly  fallen.” 

Then  a general  rush  was  made  towards  the  gate,  each 
vying  with  his  neighbor  for  the  credit  of  being  first  to 
reach  the  ground. 

''  What  means  all  this  uproar  ? ” demanded  Captain 
Petersham,  suddenly  appearing  at  the  court  house  door. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


331 


accompanied  by  one  of  his  brother  magistrates  — eh, 
what  has  happened  ? 

''Miss  Petersham  has  fallen,  sir,  crossing  that  stone 
wall,^^  replied  a policeman. 

" Fallen  — impossible.  What  I on  Moll  Pitcher  ? 

" I fear  she^s  hurt,  captain, said  the  priest. 

"Ah!  Father  Brennan,  you  here,  too  ? Hurt  — non- 
sense ! 

He  had  hardly  uttered  the  last  word,  when  another 
wild  shout  rose  that  made  the  very  welkin  ring  again  ; 
and  here,  plain  to  every  eye,  came  Kate,  firmly  seated  in 
her  saddle,  bounding  along  the  meadow,  and  waving  her 
handkerchief  in  acknowledgment  of  the  greeting. 

As  she  jumped  the  last  ditch,  a man  apparently  in 
disguise — for  his  clothes  seemed  to  accord  little  with 
his  figure  and  gait  — advanced  and  laid  his  hand  on 
the  reins. 

Well,  Lanty,  is  the  trial  over  ? demanded  Kate, 
bending  to  her  saddle-bow,  and  whispering  the  words. 

" No,  my  lady,  it  didn^t  begin  yet.^^ 

" Glad  of  it  — I feared  I should  come  late.^^ 

" Is  your  ladyship  hurt  ? 

" Not  in  the  least. 

"Nor  Moll  Pitcher  ? 

" Not  a particle.’^ 

" The  darlin,^^  exclaimed  Lanty,  laying  his  hand  on  the 
mare^s  neck  ; " she^s  as  true  as  steel.  0,  my  life  on  her 
for  a million.^’ 

" The  moment  will  soon  come  to  try  her,^^  said  Kate, 
as  Lanty  stretched  out  his  arms  and  lifted  her  from  the 
saddle.  " Are  you  sure  alPs  ready  ? 

" Ay,  ay,  never  fear.^^  ^ 

" Where  is  Miss  Hard  wrinkle  ? 

" In  the  mountains,  safe  and  sound. 

‘‘  And  the  police,  how  many  here  ? ’’ 

" Not  many,^^  responded  Lanty  ; " but  donT  stay,  or 
the  guard  will  suspect  somethin. 

The  above  conversation  passed  stealthily  and  rapidly, 
under  cover  of  the  cheers  of  the  crowd. 


332 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


''Fall  back  ! again  bawled  the  police;  "fall  back 
there,  and  make  way  for  the  lady/^ 

" Ho  ! Kate,  my  girl,^^  cried  the  jolly  captain,  snatch- 
ing his  sister  up  in  his  arms,  and  kissing  her  affection- 
ately, as  she  ascended  the  steps.  " The  rascals  here 
would  have  you  hurt  or  killed  ; but  they  little  know  the 
metal  3^ou^re  made  of,  nor  the  gallant  bit  of  flesh  that 
carries  you,  Kate.  A little  out  of  sorts  by  the  fall  — 
bruised  or  stunned,  eh  ? 

" Not  a whit,’^  responded  Kate.  " I could  ride  a 
steeple  chase  this  moment  with  the  best  blood  in  the 
country.  Ah,  Father  John,  you  here  ? Fm  glad  to  see 
you ; and  bending  reverently,  she  kissed  the  priest^s 
hand. 

" My  dear  girl,^^  responded  the  latter,  " Pm  delighted 
to  see  you  unhurt,  for  I must  confess  I felt  rather  anx- 
ious. 

"0,  it  was  nothing — a mere  stumble;  the  mare 
lighted  on  a round  stone  and  fell,  that^s  all.  0,  hoh  ! 
and  Dr.  Henshaw  ; Pm  glad  to  see  you  too,  sir,’^  she  con- 
tinued, holding  out  her  hand.  " You  must  come  up  and 
see  us  to-morrow  at  Castle  Gregory.  Now  don't  say  a 
word;  I shall  have  no  excuse.  You  must  positively 
come,  and  you  may  cut  up  Swift,  too,  into  mince  meat, 
if  you  like.  Father  John,  I lay  my  sovereign  commands 
on  you  to  present  yourself  and  Dr.  Henshaw  at  Castle 
Gregory  to-morrow. 

" And,  Kate,  you  must  put  in  a good  word  for  me,^^ 
said  the  captain,  looking  over  good-humoredly  at  the  doc- 
tor. " But  never  mind  ; weTl  settle  all  that  to-morrow  ; 
let  us  now  proceed  to  business.  Come  in,  gentlemen  ; 
we  have  some  spare  ^ats  on  the  bench.  Ho,  there, 
police  ! make  way,  make  way.  Come  in^  there^s  quite 
an  interesting  case  in  court.^^ 

As  the  parties  took  their  seats  and  looked  round  the 
room,  the  first  object  that  arrested  their  attention  was  the 
negro.  He  was  standing  in  the  witness  box,  apparently 
awaiting  the  return  of  the  presiding  magistrate  to  resume 
his  examination.  On  the  right  of  the  bench,  and  im- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND . 


333 


mediately  below  it,  sat  the  cabin  boy,  wrapped  in  a thick, 
blue  blouse,  and  looking  pale  and  emaciated  after  his 
sickness.  Beyond  him,  and  near  the  dock  in  which 
Randall  Barry  stood,  shackled  and  guarded  by  two 
constables,  appeared  the  tall  form  of  Else  Curley.  She 
was  seated  on  one  of  the  steps  leading  up  to  the  jury 
room,  the  hood  of  her  cloak,  as  usual,  drawn  over  her 
head,  with  the  white  elf  locks  visible  beneath  it.  But 
the  object  which  appeared  to  attract  every  eye,  and 
challenge  universal  attention,  was  the  noble,  manly 
figure  of  the  young  outlaw,  as  he  stood  before  his  judges, 
awaiting  his  trial,  his  left  arm  still  in  a sling,  and  his 
riglit  bound  by  a chain  running  round  his  waist,  and 
fastened  by  a padlock  in  front. 

Randall  Barry  was  now  in  his  twenty-fifth  year ; but 
misfortune  and  disappointment  had  cast  a shade  of 
melancholy  on  his  countenance  that  made  him  look 
several  years  older.  His  face  was  eminently  handsome, 
and  his  person  tall  and  muscular.  Though  far  from  being 
robust,  his  limbs  were  well  moulded,  and  evidently  capable 
of  great  physical  exertion.  As  he  stood  in  the  dock, 
his  dark  eye  wandered  slowly  over  the  faces  of  the 
multitude,  resting  now  and  then  for  a moment  on  those 
he  recognized.  But  when  Kate  Petersham  appeared, 
and  took  the  place  assigned  her  by  the  clerk  of  the 
court,  he  glanced  at  her  sharply  for  an  instant,  and  then, 
as  she  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  bent  his  head  and  blushed 
at  the  thought  of  his  degradation.  But  to  return  to  the 
negro. 

Your  name  is  Sambo  ? resumed  Captain  Peters- 
ham, addressing  the  witness. 

^^Ees,  massa.^^ 

Sambo  what  ? 

Nigger  Sambo. 

''You’re  a negro  — that’s  pretty  evident;  but  what’s 
your  surname  ? ” 

" Don’t  know,  massa.” 

" What  are  you  called.  Sambo  Smith,  or  Sambo  Brown, 


334 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


or  Sambo  Robison  ? YouVe  some  family  name,  have 
you  not  ? 

''  Nothing,  massa,^^  replied  the  African,  ''  nothing  but 
Sambo/^ 

''  Why,  you  rascal,  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  youVe  got 
no  family  name  ? 

''  0,  sartin,  massa.  Pm  got  famly  name/^ 

And  what  is  it,  then  ? Answer  directly,  sir.  Pve 
been  examining  this  stupid  fellow  a full  half  hour,  and  can 
get  nothing  out  of  him,^^  added  the  captain,  turning  to  the 
priest ; he^s  the  most  provoking  creature  I ever  met 
with.  Answer  me,  sir  ; what  is  your  family  name  ? 
Famly  name,  massa  ! 

Yes,  yes,  yes  ; you  had  a father,  I suppose  ? 

''  Fader — well,  supposin  Pm  had  a fader.^^ 

Supposing  you  had  a father  ? By  George,  this  is 
absolutely  intolerable.  Had  your  father  a name  ? ’’ 

''  Sartin,  massa.^^ 

And  what  the  fury  was  it  ? 

Sambo,  massa  — him  was  Nigger  Sambo,  too.^^ 

Here  the  whole  assembly,  magistrates  and  spectators, 
broke  into  a loud  laugh  at  the  discomfited  captain,  and 
the  negro  yah-yahM,  and  shook  his  sides  in  true  African 
fashion. 

''  Excuse  me,  captain, said  Henshaw,  ''  but  these 
unfortunate  creatures  seldom  or  ever  have  a surname. 

'‘Yes,  yes,  I was  aware  of  that  ; but  I have  an  object 
in  ascertaining  what  his  second  name  is.  He  must  have 
a name,  either  from  his  father  or  master.  Silence  in  the 
court,  there  ! Tell  me,  sir,^^  he  continued,  " what  is  that 
boy^s  name,  sitting  there  before  you ; and  he  pointed 
to  the  individual  in  question. 

" Dat  boy  ? — Natty  Nelson. 

" Where  was  he  born  ? 

" Don^t  know,  massa. 

" Where  did  you  first  see  him  ? 

I seed  him  in  de  baccy  field  — yah,  yah ! 

" In  what  state  ? 

" Ole  Virginny.^^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


335 


''  On  whose  plantation  ? 

Whose  plantation  ? Can^t  tell  dat,  massa,  no  how/^ 
replied  the  African. 

You  must,  sir  ; I shall  order  you  the  bastinado  this 
instant  if  you  refuse. 

''Yah,  yah,  massa;  this  am  free  country.  Nigger 
here  am  good  as  white  man.^^ 

At  this  stage  of  ‘the  proceedings  a stir  was  seen  in  the 
crowd  at  the  lower  end  of  the  room,  and  presently 
entered  Mr.  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks,  covered  with  jewelry, 
a gold-headed  cane  in  his  hand,  and  the  silver  card  case 
protruding  as  usual  from  his  pocket. 

Sambo  was  so  intent  on  evading  such  questions  as 
might  be  likely  to  criminate  protege,  and  so  fearful,  at 
the  same  time,  of  provoking  the  magistrate’s  anger,  that 
he  neither  heard  nor  saw  any  thing  of  Mr.  Weeks,  till 
that  gentleman  attracted  his  notice  by  throwing  his  feet 
upon  the  very  platform  on  which  he  was  standing. 

" Golly,  Massa  Charles,  you  dar  ? ” he  exclaimed,  as 
his  eye  turned  on  the  new  comer.  "Massa  — I mean 
Massa  Week,”  he  added,  endeavoring  to  correct  the 
blunder. 

Captain  Petersham’s  quick  eye  saw  the  confusion  this 
unexpected  recognition  caused  the  Yankee,  and  instantly 
writing  a few  words  rapidly  in  pencil,  dropped  them  on 
the  clerk’s  desk,  and  again  resumed. 

"Witness,  I again  repeat  the  question — on  whose 
plantation  did  you  first  see  this  boy  ? ” 

" Me  no  tell  dat,  massa,”  replied  the  negro,  decidedly. 

" Then  I shall  commit  you.  Clerk,  make  out  his  com- 
mittal. I’ll  send  you  presently  where  you  can  have 
plenty  of  time  to  determine  whether  you’ll  answer  or 
not.” 

" Mr.  Petersham,”  observed  Hardwrinkle,  leaning  over 
on  the  bench,  and  speaking  in  low  tones,  but  still  suffi- 
ciently loud  to  be  heard  by  his  brother  magistrates,  "it 
does  not  appear  to  me  that  the  name  of  the  proprietor  of 
the  plantation  is  essential  in  this  case.” 

" Certainly  not,  so  far  as  we  regard  simply  the  owner- 


336 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


ship  of  the  rosary ; but  there^s  a secret  of  some  impor- 
tance, I suspect,  in  connection  with  the  case,  which  Tm 
anxious  to  discover. 

But  are  you  justified,  nevertheless,  in  committing  the 
witness  for  your  own  personal  gratification  ? 

Perhaps  not ; but  at  present  I^m  disposed  to  run 
the  risk,^^  replied  the  captain  ; and  turning  abruptly  from 
Hardwrinkle,  he  handed  the  committal  to  a constable,  and 
ordered  him  to  take  the  witness  forthwith  to  the  barrack, 
and  keep  him  in  close  custody. 

The  negro,  finding  himself  in  the  hands  of  an  officer, 
looked  beseechingly  first  at  Weeks  and  then  at  the  boy, 
but  said  nothing. 

You  may  depend  on  it.  Sambo, said  the  captain,  as 
the  poor  fellow  left  the  witness  box,  '^you  shall  never 
leave  the  lock-up  till  you  tell  who  the  owner  of  that  to- 
bacco field  is,  or  was,  when  you  first  saw  this  boy  — • 
away  with  him.^^ 

Massa,  massa.  Pm  want  to  speak  one  word  to 
Natty. 

Not  a syllable. 

One  leetle  word.^^ 

''  Not  a letter  of  the  alphabet. 

The  boy  now  rose,  and  in  feeble  accents  begged  per- 
mission to  accompany  the  negro  to  prison.  ''  He  has 
been  my  friend,  he  said,  **  please  your  worships,  my  best 
friend  ever  since  I was  a child,  and  I would  grieve  to 
part  with  him.^' 

It  cannot  be,^^  replied  the  captain ; he  must  go 
alone. 

During  this  conversation  Weeks  sat  leaning  back 
against  a partition,  with  his  feet  stretched  out  before 
him,  pointing  a pencil  with  a penknife,  and  apparently 
quite  indifferent  to  what  was  passing.  He  was  cautiously 
deliberating,  however,  all  the  while,  whether  it  were 
better  to  acknowledge  he  had  taken  the  rosary  from  the 
lighthouse  by  mistake,  or  run  the  risk  of  the  negro  and 
the  boy  keeping  the  promise  they  had  made  him.  If  he 
admitted  having  taken  it,  he  should  produce  it,  and  the 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


337 


existence  of  two  rosaries  would  at  once  discover  the 
whole  secret.  If  he  did  not,  and  the  boy,  from  his 
strong  affection  for  the  negro,  should  be  driven  at  last  to 
confess  the  truth,  it  might  be  worse  still.  The  reader 
must  here  observe,  that  up  to  the  moment  of  the  boy^s 
arrest  at  Crohan  House,  Mr.  Weeks  never  dreamed  of  his 
having  a rosary  in  his  possession ; and  even  when  the 
constables  took  him  off,  he  never  imagined  it  could  pos- 
sibly involve  him  in  any  trouble.  Ilardwrinkle  was  not 
so,  however.  The  instant  he  saw  the  rosary,  he  knew 
it,  at  once,  to  be  a duplicate  of  that  he  had  seen  with  his 
sister  Rebecca,  and  already  aware  of  the  boy^s  connec- 
tions in  Virginia,  thought  it  prudent  to  apprise  his  cousin 
of  the  danger,  and  accordingly  despatched  a private  mes- 
sage to  him  to  that  effect ; the  latter,  believing  his  pres- 
ence at  the  trial  might  be  the  means  of  deterring  the 
negro  from  divulging  the  name  of  his  master,  if  he  should 
happen  to  be  so  inclined,  made  his  appearance  in  court,  as 
we  have  already  described.  Things,  however,  had  taken 
rather  a different  turn  from  what  he  expected.  The  Afri- 
can was  now  committed  for  contempt,  and  on  the  point 
of  being  separated  from  his  protege  — a separation  he 
knew  to  be  most  painful  to  both  ; and  he  began  to  feel 
somewhat  apprehensive  lest  the  negroes  promise  of  fidel- 
ity should  give  way  to  his  love  for  the  boy.  Well,  I 
swonnie,^^  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  pointed  the  pencil,  or 
rather  whittled  it,  (if  one  could  judge  by  the  quantity  of 
chips,)  I swonnie,  I don^t  know.  I guess  it  might  be 
just  as  well  to  make  tracks  from  this  here  place  as  soon 
as  possible  ; things  are  beginning  to  tighten  in  so^s  to 
make  one  feel  sorter  uncomfortable.  There^s  that  darned 
note,  though,  of  the  light-keeper^s  — if  I had  that  cashed, 
I kinder  think  Vd  bid  the  folks  in  this  section  good  by 
for  a while.  Well,  the  sheriff's  after  him,  any  how  — 
that^s  a comfort  — and  0,  crackie  I if  I don^t  make  him 
pay  for  his  insults  at  Castle  Gregory.  If  I don^t  screw 
him  tight  up  — well,  if  I donH,  it^s  no  matter  ; that^s  all.^' 
In  this  fashion  Mr.  Weeks  kept  communing  with  his  own 
thoughts,  weighing  liis  chances  of  success  and  failure,  till 
29 


338 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


the  boy  rose  and  begged  the  court  to  allow  him  the  priv- 
ilege of  being  confined  in  the  same  cell  with  the  witness. 

Ah,^^  thought  Weeks,  I guess  I^m  about  long  enough 
here.  I see  the  tears  in  his  eyes — he’ll  never  hold  out; 
and  if  he  comes  to  blab,  I might  feel  sorter  unpleasant ; ” 
and  so  thinking,  he  took  his  hat  and  turned  to  quit  the 
court  house. 

Excuse  me,  Mr.  Weeks,”  said  Captain  Petersham, 
we  must  detain  you  a little  longer  — you’re  summoned 
to  give  testimony  in  this  case.” 

‘^Summoned!” 

Yes,  sir.  Here,  constable,  hand  this  to  the  gentle- 
man. Have  the  goodness  to  resume  your  seat,  Mr. 
Duck  — ah,  Mr.  Weeks,  I should  have  said;  we  shall 
want  you  presently.  Clerk,  call  Else  Curley.” 

I’m  here,”  responded  Else,  promptly,  rising  from  the 
low  step  on  which  she  had  been  sitting,  and  brushing 
back  her  gray  hair  under  her  hood  with  her  brown,  bony 
hand,  — **  I’m  here.” 

Take  your  place  on  the  witness  stand,”  said  the 
clerk. 

As  Else  advanced,  every  eye  was  upon  her.  Hundreds 
there  who  had  come  from  a distance  to  hear  the  trial  of 
the  young  rebel,  and  had  never  seen  Else  Curley,  now 
pushed  forward  to  get  a glimpse  of  that  far-famed  fortune- 
teller and  solitary  of  Benraven. 

Having  taken  the  usual  oath,  the  old  woman  folded 
her  arms  in  her  gray  cloak,  and  awaited  the  pleasure  of 
the  magistrates. 

Shall  I examine  her  ? ” said  Hardwrinkle,  addressing 
the  captain. 

I thank  you,”  replied  the  latter ; no,  I should  pre- 
fer to  examine  her  myself.” 

Your  name  is  Else  Curley,  and  you  reside  on  Ben- 
raven  Mountain  ? ” began  the  captain. 

Yes.” 

''Do  you  know  Mr.  Lee  and  his  daughter,  of  Araheera 
lighthouse  ? ” 

" I do.” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


339 


''  Have  you  ever  seen  a rosary  of  a peculiar  description 
in  Miss  Lee^s  possession  ? 

''  I have/^ 

Can  you  describe  it  ? 

It  was  a silver-baded  rosary,  with  a crucifix  set  in 
diamonds/^ 

Look  at  this  one,  and  tell  me  if  you  ever  saw  it 
before/^ 

Else  took  the  rosary,  and  after  looking  at  it  for  a mo- 
ment replied,  This  is  the  very  picthur  of  Mary  Lee^s,  if 
it  been^t  itself/^ 

Can  you  swear  positively  it  is  Miss  Lee’s/^ 

No,^^  responded  Else,  but  it^s  as  lake  it  as  one  thing 
can  be  lake  another.^' 

Have  you  seen  a rosary  like  that  in  Miss  Lee^s  pos- 
session ? 

A hundher  times.  I tuck  one  like  it  from  her  dead 
mother^s  neck  among  the  rocks  of  Araheera,  the  mornin 
after  the  wrack  of  the  Saldana,  and  put  it  on  her  own.^^ 

**  On  whose  ? 

**  Mary  Lee^s.  The  child  was  livin  in  her  mother's 
arms  when  I found  her." 

What ! " exclaimed  the  captain  ; you  must  mistake. 
Do  you  mean  to  tell  the  bench  that  you  found  a living 
child  in  the  arms  of  a dead  woman  on  the  morning  after 
the  wreck  of  the  Saldana,  and  that  that  child  is  the  same 
Mary  Lee  who  now  claims  this  rosary  ? " 

"'  I do,"  replied  Else,  confidently. 

This  declaration  of  the  old  woman,  made  so  promptly 
and  positively,  took  the  whole  audience  by  surprise. 
Even  Hardwrinkle  himself,  who  thought  he  knew  more 
of  Mary  Lee's  history  than  any  other  in  court,  looked 
confounded  and  astonished  at  the  unexpected  revelation. 
In  a moment  he  foresaw  the  disclosure  would  eventually 
lead  to  the  discovery  of- his  cousin's  matrimonial  specula- 
tion, the  boy's  relationship  with  the  proprietor  of  the 
Virginia  plantation,  and  his  own  confusion  and  disgrace, 
unless  he  succeeded  in  damaging  the  witness's  tes- 
timony. 


340 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


**  Captain  Petersham/^  said  he,  turning  to  the  presiding 
magistrate,  and  speaking  in  the  gentlest  possible  accents, 
may  I take  the  liberty  of  putting  a question  or  two  to 
the  witness  ? It  really  cannot  be  possible  she  speaks  the 
truth  in  this  matter/^ 

^'As  you  please,^^  replied  the  captain;  but  I don^t 
see  how  it  can  affect  the  case  whether  she  speaks  the  truth 
or  not  about  the  discovery  of  the  child.  She  swears  pos- 
itively that  the  rosary  is  as  like  that  which  Miss  Lee  lost 
as  one  thing  can  be  like  another,  and  she  had  even  de- 
scribed it,  before  she  saw  it,  as  consisting  of  silver  beads 
and  a gold  crucifix  set  in  diamonds.  Now,  for  my  part, 
I don’t  believe  you  could  find  another  rosary  through  all 
Europe  of  the  same  description.  But  proceed,  sir ; sat- 
isfy yourself,  by  all  means.” 

''  Else  Curley,”  said  Hardwrinkle,  addressing  the  wit- 
ness, of  what  religion  are  you  ? ” 

I was  once  a Catholic,”  replied  the  old  woman  ; 
I’m  nothin,  now.” 

''Do  you  believe  in  a future  state  of  rewards  and  pun- 
ishments ? ” 

"Humph!”  she  replied;  "why  shouldn’t  I?  God 
surely ’ll  punish  the  persecutor  and  the  murdherer  in  the 
nixt  world,  if  the  law  don’t  in  this ; ” and  as  she  uttered 
the  words,  she  fixed  her  keen,  deep-sunken  eyes  on  her 
questioner. 

" How  long  is  it  since  you’ve  been  in  a house  of 
worship  ? ” 

" Well  on  to  thirty  years.” 

"You  are  commonly  called  the  witch  and  fortune- 
teller of  the  Cairn,  are  you  not  ? ” 

" Sometimes  fortune-teller,  and  sometimes  she-devil,” 
replied  Else  ; "just  as  the  people  fancy.” 

" Do  you  know  what  crime  it  is  to  take  a false 
oath  ? ” 

"I  do.” 

"What  is  it?” 

" Parjury.” 

" And  what  is  perjury  ? ” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


341 


The  crime  yer  father  committed  whin  he  swore  agin 
my  only  sister,  and  sint  her  to  an  untimely  grave. 

Here  a laugh  came  up  from  the  crowd  below  ; but  it 
was  soon  suppressed  by  the  police,  and  Hardwrinkle  pro- 
ceeded. 

I repeat  the  question,  witness  ; what  is  perjury  ? 
‘^The  crime  yer  father  committed  whin  he  swore  my 
brother  to  the  hulk,  and  sint  him  to  die  in  a forrin  land, 
with  irons  on  his  limbs.  The  crime  ye  committed  yerself 
whin  ye  sint  me  twice  to  the  dark  dungeons  of  Lefford 
jail,  and  whin  I come  out,  driv  me  to  burrow  lake  the 
brock  in  the  crags  of  Benraven.^^ 

Woman,  I shall  send  you  to  jail  for  the  third  time,  if 
you  persist  in  using  such  language  in  court. 

Scoundrel  ! hypocrite  ! murderer  ! I defy  you,^’  cried 
Else,  throwing  back  her  hood,  and  raising  her  shrivelled 
arm  as  she  spoke;  ''yer  villany’s  discovered  at  last. 
There,’^  she  ejaculated,  pointing  to  Weeks,  "there,  tell 
the  court  who  sent  that  man  to  me  for  spells  and  charms 
to  make  Mary  Lee  marry  him  ; who  tould  him  of  the 
witch  and  fortune-teller  of  Benraven  ; who  tould  him  she 
would  sell  her  sowl  to  fill  her  pocket  ? Ah,  little  ye 
thought,  when  ye  made  this  greedy  cousin  buy  up  the 
light-keeper^s  notes,  that  ye  might  have  the  means  of 
sending  him  to  jail  if  he  refused  his  niece,  little  ye  thought 
the  bedlam  of  the  Cairn  was  watching  ye  — 

"Hold!  hold,  woman exclaimed  Captain  Peters- 
ham. " What  does  all  this  mean  ? 

" Mane  ! repeated  Else.  " It  manes  that  this  cousin 
of  his,  this  man  of  trinkets,  come  here  from  America  in 
search  of  the  heiress  of  William  Talbot,  and  that  Robert 
Hardwrinkle  conspired  with  him  to  take  her  off  by  fair 
manes  or  foul.  It  manes  that  at  the  instigation  of  that 
devil  there  in  human  shape,  the  Yankee  here  paid  me 
eighty  British  pounds  for  spells  and  charms,  and  my  good 
word  besides,  to  make  her  marry  him.  It  manes  that, 
after  watching  for  thirty  years,  I found  at  last  evi- 
dence to  prove  to  the  world  that  the  pious,  God-fearing, 
29  * 


342 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


saintly,  smooth-spoken  gentleman  on  the  bench  there  be- 
side ye,  is  a hypocrite  and  a villain/^ 

Police  I take  charge  of  this  woman, commanded 
Hardwrinkle,  his  long,  dark,  sallow  face  pale  with  con- 
fusion and  anger  ; take  her  away/^ 

No,  no;  not  yet,  Mr.  Hardwrinkle,  not  yet,^^  inter- 
posed Captain  Petersham ; we  cannot  permit  her  to 
leave  after  casting  such  aspersion  on  your  character.  As 
your  brother  magistrates,  we  feel  concerned  for  your 
reputation,  and  must  for  your  sake,  and  indeed  for  the 
honor  of  the  bench,  make  further  inquiries  into  this 
matter. 

^‘Else  Curley,^^  said  he,  ''you  have  just  charged  Mr. 
Hardwrinkle,  a magistrate  of  the  county,  and  a gentle- 
man— up  to  this  moment,  at  least  — of  unexceptionable 
character,  with  having  conspired  with  Mr.  Weeks  to  take 
off  Miss  Lee  by  fair  means  or  foul.  What  proof  of  that 
fact  can  you  offer  ? 

" That,  on  the  third  day  afther  Weeks  arrived  at  Cro- 
han  House, promptly  replied  Else,  "he  came  into  my 
cabin  on  the  Cairn,  and  paid  me  twenty  pounds  earnest 
for  my  sarvices  to  help  him  to  secure  Mary  Lee,  and  that 
afore  he  iver  seen  a faiture  of  her  face.  How  cud  he 
know  that  I was  acquent  with  Mary  Lee,  or  how  cud 
he  tell  that  I^d  take  his  money  for  sich  a purpose,  or  how 
cud  he  know  any  thing  about  me,  if  Robert  Hardwrinkle 
didn^t  tell  him  who  and  what  I was  ? 

" Yes,  but  all  this  amounts  only  to  mere  suspicion. 
Have  you  proofs  ? 

" Weekses  bank  notes,  that  I have  still  in  my  posses- 
sion, clean  and  fresh  out  of  the  Bank  of  Dublin,  is  proof 
enough  on  his  side,  I^m  thinkin ; and  the  note  in  the 
sheriff's  hands  can  spake  for  Robert  Hardwrinkle^s.^^ 

Here  the  deputy  sheriff  entered  the  court  house,  ac- 
companied by  the  light-keeper  and  his  afflicted  niece, 
closely  followed  by  her  old,  faithful  domestic,  Roger 
O^Shaughnessy,  in  the  bottle-green  livery  with  the  faded 
lace.  As  the  constables  drove  back  the  crowd  to  make 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


343 


way,  and  Mary  appeared,  deeply  veiled,  leaning  on  her 
uncle^s  arm,  Captain  Petersham  rose  and  saluted  her 
with  marked  respect,  and  then  a murmur  of  sympathy 
ran  round  the  assembly ; and  as  she  advanced  nearer  to 
the  bench,  her  dear  friend  Kate,  her  eyes  suffused  with 
tears,  and  regardless  of  the  spectators,  ran  to  meet  her, 
and  flinging  her  arms  round  her  neck,  embraced  her  with 
true  sisterly  affection. 


344 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


CHAPTEE  XXVIII. 

Trial  continued,  — Else  charges  Hardwrinhle  with  Con-- 
spiracy  to  carry  off  Mary  Lee.  — She  proms  William 
Talbot j Mary^s  Father  j to  he  still  living y by  Means  of  the 
Eosary  found  on  the  Person  of  the  Cabin  Boy.  — 
Marfs  Feelings  overpower  her  on  hearing  the  Announce- 
ment. — The  Rescue  of  the  Rebel.  — The  Riot,  — Hard- 
wrinkle^  s Death. 

The  crowd  outside  the  court  house  grew  more  and 
more  clamorous  for  admission,  as  the  trial  proceeded. 
Stones  were  several  times  thrown  at  the  doors,  and 
finally,  the  multitude  grew  so  excited  as  to  be  on  the 
point  of  rushing  up  the  steps  to  disarm  the  constables, 
when  suddenly  the  word  halt  was  heard  ringing 
clear  and  sharp  from  the  direction  of  the  street,  and 
next  moment  a detachment  of  police,  headed  by  a lieu- 
tenant, passed  through  the  gate,  and  opening  a passage 
with  their  bayonets,  took  their  position  on  the  court 
house  steps. 

This  re-enforcement,  it  is  needless  to  observe,  was 
ordered  by  Mr.  Hardwrinkle  himself,  from  the  neighbor- 
ing village,  without  the  knowledge  or  consent  of  Cap- 
tain Petersham.  Hardwrinkle,  in  fact,  saw  from  the 
beginning  that  the  captain  determined  to  throw  every 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  Barry^s  committal,  and  he,  on  the 
other  hand,  resolved  to  leave  no  means  untried  to  thwart 
and  disappoint  him.  Hence  the  moment  he  found  the 
police  had  all  been  sent  in  search  of  Lanty  Hanlon  and 
his  sister,  with  the  exception  of  three  or  four  to  guard 
the  prisoner,  he  despatched  a messenger  to  the  nearest 
oflScer  in  charge,  and  under  pretence  of  an  anticipated 
riot,  commanded  him  to  bring  forthwith  all  the  force  he 
could  muster,  to  sustain  the  magistrates  in  the  execution 
of  the  law. 

After  the  slight  interruption  occasioned  by  the  entrance 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


345 


of  the  sheriff  and  his  party,  the  chairman  again  resumed 
his  examination  of  the  witness. 

My  good  woman, said  he,  you  have  made  a very 
grave  and  serious  charge  here,  in  open  court,  against  one 
of  my  brother  magistrates  ; no  less  a charge,  indeed, 
than  of  conspiring  with  another  individual  here  present 
to  entice,  seduce,  or  carry  off,  by  fair  means  or  foul,  a 
highly  accomplished  and  respectable  young  lady.  Miss 
Lee,  of  Araheera  Head.  I now  call  on  you  to  substan- 
tiate that  charge,  or  confess  yourself  guilty  of  a foul  and 
malicious  slander. 

Slander  ! repeated  Else,  drawing  herself  up  and 
looking  round  Jhe  audience.  I niver  was  guilty  of 
slander  in  my  life.  I^m  now  fourscore  years  and  more  ; 
thirty  of  them  I spent  in  the  wilds  of  Benraven,  under 
the  foul  name  of  witch  and  deviFs  dam  ; but  whereas 
the  man  or  woman  here  ever  knew  Else  Curley  to  tell  a 
lie  or  slander  a neighbor  ? If  there  is,  let  them  spake. 
What  I am,  that  man  there  on  the  bench  has  made  me. 
For  these  long  and  weary  thirty  years,  he  stud  between 
the  light  of  heaven  and  me ; and  yit  though  I niver  ex- 
pect to  see  God  but  in  anger,  I wudn’t  tell  a lie  to  send 
him  to  the  gallows.’^ 

As  Else  uttered  these  words,  her  look  was  calm  and 
defiant,  and  she  stood  as  erect  as  a statue,  her  arms 
folded  on  her  brown  bare  breast,  and  her  deep  gray  eyes 
fixed  on  Robert  Hardwrinkle. 

The  spectators  gazed  on  her  in  silent  astonishment. 
Her  mien,  her  attitude,  but  above  all  the  dignity  with 
which  she  spoke,  struck  them  as  extraordinary  in  a 
woman  of  her  character  and  years. 

She  has  seen  better  days,  that  old  creature, ob- 
served Ilenshaw,  turning  to  the  priest. 

Ay,  so  report  says.^^ 

''  But  on  what  grounds,^^  again  demanded  the  captain, 
have  you  made  this  charge  against  Mr.  Hardwrinkle  ? 

Humph  ! grounds  enough,  sir,  grounds  enough.  First 
ask  the  sheriff  there  to  produce  the  promissory  note  Mr. 
Lee^s  now  arrested  for.’^ 


346 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


My  jurisdiction  don^t  extend  so  far,  my  good  woman. 
If  the  gentleman,  however,  chooses — 

Certainly,  sir,^^  replied  the  latter,  ^'certainly;  I can 
see  no  objection/^ 

''  Well,  I guess  you  might  as  well  not  mind  it  just 
now,^^  drawled  out  Weeks,  who  had  resumed  his  seat, 
and  kept  whittling  his  pencil. 

How  so  ? 

Well,  I object  to  the  production  of  the  note  — 
that^s  all.^^ 

The  objection  don’t  hold,  sir  — the  note  being  now  in 
possession  of  the  civil  court,”  responded  the  sheriff,  hand- 
ing the  document  up  to  the  bench. 

Hah  ! ” exclaimed  the  chairman,  as  l^e  read  it  over. 
**  This  note’s  drawn  in  favor  of  Steven  C.  Ingoldsby,  and 
indorsed  by  Robert  Hardwrinkle  to  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks 
— with  interest  added  up  to  13th — . Witness,  how 
does  this  date  correspond  with  Weeks’s  arrival  at  Cro- 
han  ? ” 

He  was  here  two  weeks  to  a day,”  promptly  re- 
sponded Else — ^'just  time  enough  for  his  cousin  there 
to  go  to  Dublin,  and  ferret  out  Mr.  Lee’s  creditors.” 

''You’re  of  opinion,  then,”  said  the  captain,  "that 
Mr.  Hardwrinkle  bought  up  this  note  and  indorsed  it  to 
Weeks,  as  a means  of  coercing  Miss  Lee  to  marry  him 
through  fear  of  her  uncle’s  incarceration  ? ” 

" I am.” 

" And  yet,  my  good  woman,  you  have  given  us  no 
proofs  that  Mr.  Weeks  ever  proposed  marriage  to  the 
young  lady  in  question.” 

" Proofs  ! ” repeated  Else,  running  her  hand  into  her 
bosom,  and  drawing  out  a pile  of  letters.  " Proofs  — 
there’s  proofs  enough  here.” 

" How  came  you  by  these  letters  ? ” 

" Weeks  gave  them  to  me  to  deliver  to  Miss  Lee.” 

" Ah  — and  you  did  not  deliver  them  ? ” 

" No  ; I kept  them.” 

" Miss  Lee,  then,  never  saw  these  letters?” 

"Saw  them  — humph!  no;  it’d  ill  become  the 


THE  YANKEE  IN  ERELAND. 


347 


daughter  of  William  Talbot  to  touch  the  love-letters  of 
such  a scare-crow  as  that ; and  her  eye  pointing  to 
the  Yankee  as  she  spoke. 

Hand  me  these  letters/^  said  the  captain  ; we 
must  see  what  they  look  like.^^ 

After  glancing  over  the  contents  of  one  or  two  taken 
at  random  from  the  parcel,  he  turned  to  Weeks,  and  re- 
quested to  know  from  that  gentleman,  whether  he  ac- 
knowledged the  authorship,  and  if  so,  had  he  any 
objection  to  have  them  read  in  court. 

Weeks  hesitated  for  a moment,  at  a loss  what  reply  to 
make.  He  felt  a great  temptation  to  disavow  the  letters 
altogether,  if  he  could  only  do  so  with  impunity  ; but 
he  feared  he  could  not,  and  to  fail  in  the  attempt 
would  only  cover  him  with  greater  shame  and  confusion 
than  ever. 

''  You  have  heard  the  question,  Mr.  Weeks  ? 

**  What ! about  writing  these  letters  ? 

Yes  ! '' 

0,  I acknowledge  the  corn  right  straight  off.  I 
guess  I hainft  got  nothing  in  them  to  be  ashamed  of  — 
have  I ? Well,  the  hull  amount  of  it  is,  I sorter  liked 
the  girl.^^ 

Just  so,  sir.^' 

There’s  no  treason  in  that,  I reckon.’’ 

**  Certainly  not.” 

‘‘  As  for  the  lady  been  of  gentle  blood,  and  all  that 
sorter  thing,  why,  it’s  right  enough,  I guess,  over  here, 
in  this  old  country  of  yourn.  And  so,  folks  round  here 
may  think,  perhaps,  a Yankee  merchant,  like  me,  ain’t 
good  enough  match  for  her ; but  I tell  ye  what,  gents,” 
he  continued,  rising  to  his  feet,  and  thrusting  his  hands 
down,  as  usual,  deep  into  his  breeches  pockets,  — ''I  tell 
you  what,  I’m  the  son  of  an  old  revolutionist,  and  I’ve 
got  a notion  that  the  descendant  of  one  of  these  same 
old  heroes  is  about  good  enough  for  any  Irish  girl  ever 
walked  in  shoe  leather.  I may  be  wrong,  gents,  but 
them’s  my  sentiments  notwithstanding.” 

Witness,”  resumed  the  chairman,  without  appearing 


348 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


to  notice  this  speech ; witness,  since  the  gentleman 
acknowledges  having  written  these  letters  and  made 
honorable  proposals  therein,  what  can  you  show  us 
disreputable  in  his  conduct,  or  that  of  his  cousin,  Mr. 
Hard  wrinkle,  respecting  the  overture  of  marriage  ? 

Wasn^t  it  the  act  of  a mane,  designin  villain,^’  re- 
sponded Else,  ^^to  try  to  enthrap  a girl  of  her  years 
into  a marriage  to  save  her  uncle  from  beggary  or  a jail, 
when  he  knew  her  to  be  the  heiress  of  William  Talbot, 
now  livin  in  the  United  States  ? 

Mary  started  as  the  sudden  announcement  fell  upon 
her  ear. 

Hush,  hush  ! whispered  Kate  ; keep  quiet  for-  a 
moment/^ 

''  0,  my  God,^^  she  murmured  — what  do  I hear  I my 
father  still  living  ! 

The  light-keeper  glanced  at  the  chairman,  and  then  at 
the  witness,  as  if  he  feared  the  old  woman^s  wits  were 
wandering ; and  the  priest,  turning  to  Dr.  Henshaw, 
quietly  observed  that  things  were  beginning  to  assume 
a new  complexion. 

Else  Curley,  be  careful  what  words  you  utter  here,^^ 
said  the  captain,  anxiously  looking  down  at  the  two 
young  friends,  now  folded  lovingly  in  each  other^s  arms. 

You  may  have  excited  hopes,  perhaps,  which  never 
can  be  realized.  On  what  authority  do  you  make  that 
assertion  ? 

What,  that  William  Talbot  is  still  livin  ? 

Yes.^^ 

Plenty  of  authorities  ; first  and  foremost,  that  rosary 
there  in  the  priest^ s hand  ; then  the  draggin  up  of  that 
poor  cabin  boy  under  a warrant,  for  fear  he^d  tell 
the  sacret  when  heM  recover ; and  last  of  all,  the 
condemned  look  on  that  dark,  dismal  countenance  there 
beside  ye.^^ 

Hardwrinkle  raised  his  head  and  smiled  at  the  old 
woman,  but  it  was  a smile  so  ghastly  that  the  spectators 
felt  chilled  by  its  death-like  expression. 

Hah  ! ye  smile,  said  Else  ; ye  smile,  and  well  ye 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


349 


may,  for  you’re  the  bloodsucker  and  I’m  the  victim.  Ye 
hunted  me  long,  and  run  me  down  at  last.  From  crag 
to  crag  je  hunted  me,  and  from  peak  to  peak  ; from  the 
mountain  to  the  glen  ye  hunted  me,  and  from  the  glen  to 
the  prison.  Ay,  ye  hunted  me,  and  ye  famished  me,  and 
ye  robbed  me  of  my  sowl  at  last.  Ah,  well  ye  may 
smile  at  the  rack  and  ruin  ye’ve  made  ; but  never  mind  ; 
bide  yer  time,  bide  yer  time  ; it’s  a long  lane  has  no 
turn.  That  hellish  smile  can’t  last  forever.  May  be 
yer  time  is  shorter  nor  ye  think  for.  The  hand  of  God 
may  reach  ye  yit  afore  death  reaches  me.  Bide  yer 
time  ; wanst  I thought  I cud  niver  die  till  I seen  yer 
corpse  at  my  feet  and  my  heel  on  its  neck  ; but  Heaven, 
it  seems,  or  fate,  will  have  it  otherways.  There’s  but 
one  bein  livin  cud  save  ye  from  my  vengeance,  and 
there  she’s  now,”  cried  the  speaker,  turning  to  Mary 
Lee  ; ''  that  very  girl  there,  that  spotless  child,  that  ye 
tried  to  make  the  victim  of  yer  cold-blooded  villany,  has 
three  times  saved  yer  life  — ” 

Woman,  woman,”  shouted  the  chairman,  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  after  several  fruitless  attempts  to  silence 
her,  woman,  stop  ! I shall  commit  you  if  you  don’t 
desist  instantly,” 

Pshaugh  ! ” exclaimed  Else  ; what  care  I for  yer 
committal  ? Hah,  hah  I commit  me  ! But  go  on,  go  on, 
captain  : put  yer  questions,  and  I’ll  answer  them.” 

''You  say  this  rosary  is  a proof  that  Mr.  Talbot  is 
still  living  ; how  do  you  explain  that  ? ” 

" Aisy  enough.  That  rosary  is  the  property  of 
William  Talbot,  and  the  boy  here  must  have  received 
or  stolen  it  from  its  owner  when  he  left  Virginia  three 
months  ago.  Call  up  Roger  O’Shaughnessy ; he  can 
identify  it.” 

" Is  Roger  O’Shaughnessy  in  court  ? Witness,  you 
may  remain  as  you  are.” 

" Ahem ! yes,  please  yer  honor,”  responded  Roger, 
rising,  and  making  a profound  obeisance  to  the  bench. 

" Have  you  any  objection  to  be  sworn  in  this  case  ? ” 

" Not  the  laste  in  the  world,  yer  honor.” 

30 


350 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Clerk,  swear  him  where  he  stands/^ 

After  the  usual  solemnity  of  taking  the  oath,  Roger 
raised  his  hands  and  smoothed  down  his  few  remaining 
white  hairs  over  the  collar  of  his  old  bottle-green  coat, 
and  then  looked  across  at  his  young  mistress,  as  if  to 
say  in  as  many  words,  Don^t  be  afraid,  my  child,  don^t 
be  afraid ; 1^11  say  nothing  to  injure  the  credit  of  the 
family/^ 

Witness, began  the  chairman,  what  is  your 
name  ? 

Roger  O’Shaughnessy,  sir/^ 

''  You  have  been  a servant  in  Mr.  Talbotts  family  — 
how  long  ? 

I was  forty  years  steward  and  butler  at  Castle , 

the  family  seat  of  the  Talbots,  and  my  father  before  me 
for  nearly  as  many  more.^^ 

Clerk,  hand  him  that  rosary.^^ 

Roger  took  the  precious  relic  from  the  clerk^s  hand, 
and  drawing  out  his  spectacles,  deliberately  wiped  them 
with  his  handkerchief,  and  then  slowly  adjusted  them. 

Well,  sir,^^  demanded  the  chairman,  after  a long 
pause,  have  you  seen  that  article  before  ? 
have,  sir,  a hundred  times. 

In  whose  possession  ? 

In  Mr.  William  Talbotts,  and  in  his  father^s,  Edward 

Talbot’s,  of  Castle 

^'Have  you  ever  seen  another  like  it  ? ” 

I have,  sir  ; the  fellow  of  it,  in  the  possession  of 
Edward  Talbot’s  lady,  and  afterwards  in  that  of  her 
daughter-in-law.  Miss  Mary  Lee’s  mother,  from  whose 
neck  it  was  taken  after  the  wreck  of  the  Saldana,  by  the 
witness.  Else  Curley,  and  placed  on  the  neck  of  her  fos- 
ther  child  here  present.” 

Can  you  swear  the  rosary  you  now  hold  in  your 
hand  is  not  the  rosary  Miss  Lee  lost  recently,  but  that 
which  at  one  time  belonged  to  her  father  ? ” 

I swear  it.” 

How  can  you  swear  it,  when  the  two  are  so  much 
alike  ? ” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


351 


Ahem  ! ahem  1 ejaculated  Roger ; ''  they^re  like 
one  another,  to  be  sure,  your  honor.  But  I carried  this 
rosary  several  times  to  the  jeweler  in  Cork,  with  my  own 
hands,  to  be  mended,  and  can  take'  my  oath  to  the  crack 
here  yet  under  the  arm  of  the  crucifix. 

You  swear  that  ? 

I do,  sir.^^ 

'^Yery  well,  that’s  sulQficient;  and  now  let  me  ask 
another  question  in  connection  with  the  rosary.  Do  you 
think,  from  what  you  have  known  of  William  Talbot’s 
disposition,  he  would  be  likely  to  part  with  this  rosary 
— give  it  as  a present,  for  instance,  to  this  boy  ? ” 

''  Ahem ! yer  honor,”  responded  Roger,  I didn’t 
think  so  wanst,  any  way.  I mane  the  night  his  father 
died,  when  he  called  Master  William  to  his  bedside,  and 
throwin  the  rosary  round  his  neck,  cautioned  him  never 
to  part  with  it  as  long  as  he  lived,  for  there  was  a blessia 
in  it,  and  he’d  find  it  out  some  time  before  he  died. 
* I bequathe  it  to  ye,  my  son,’  siz  he,  * as  the  best  legacy 
I can  lave  ye.  Since  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  give  it  to 
me  as  an  acknowledgment  for  saving  her  life  at  the 
Virgin’s  Chapel  at  Aix,  I niver  yet  went  to  sleep  without 
telling  those  beads.  I hope,  my  dear  boy,  you’ll  follow 
your  old  father’s  example.’  Ahem  ! I was  present  my- 
self, your  honor,  standin  by  when  that  happened,  and  if 
I could  judge  by  Master  William’s  vows  and  promises 
that  night,  I might  safely  say,  he’d  never  be  likely  to 
part  with  it  willingly.” 

From  the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  did  you  say  ? ” 

Ahem  I yes,  sir,”  responded  Roger.  Her  grace 
gave  one  to  Mr.  Edward  Talbot,  and  the  fellow  of  it  to 
his  lady,  at  Yairsells,  with  her  own  hands.  I heerd 
the  old  master  tell  the  story  to  the  lords  and  ladies  many 

an  evening  at  Castle . But,  och  ! sure,  yer  honor, 

that’s  neither  here  or  there,  now  ; no,  no  ! these  old 
times  can  never  come  back  again.  Och,  och  I it’s  little 
I thought  wanst,  when  I used  to  see  as  many  as  seven- 
teen lords  and  ladies  of  the  best  blood  in  the  land  seated 
in  the  great  dining  hall  at  Castle ” 


352 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Well,  well,  Eoger,  we  mustn’t  talk  of  these  things 
now,”  interrupted  the  captain.  You  must  remember 
you’re  on  your  oath.” 

Ay,  ay,  true  enough  ; I had  almost  forgot  that.  But 
I’m  ould,  yer  honor,  ye  know,  and  my  memory’s  not  just 
so  good  as  it  used  to  be.” 

''  It’s  now  nearly  twenty  years  since  Mr.  William 
Talbot  was  last  seen  in  England  — is  it  not  ? ” 

''  Ahem  ! ahem  ! ” ejaculated  Roger,  pausing  for  a 
moment  to  recollect  himself;  ''  ahem  I no,  sir,  it’s  not  so 
long  as  that ; no,  it’s  just  eighteen  years  ago  come  next 
Michaelmas  since  he  fought  the  duel ; we  niver  seen 
him  more  after  that  night.” 

Nor  heard  of  him  ? ” 

No,  sir  ; not  a word.  Some  thought  he  crossed  over 
to  France,  and  some  thought  he  went  out  to  America  — 
but  no  one  could  ever  tell.  For  a long  time  we  expected 
he’d  write  home,  but  no  letter  ever  came  ; and  then  we 
began  to  think  he  heerd  of  his  wife  been  lost,  with  the 
rest  of  the  passengers  in  the  Saldana,  and  made  up  his 
mind  to  bury  himself  in  some  distant  country  for  the  rest 
of  his  life.” 

Gentlemen,”  said  the  chairman,  addressing  his  breth- 
ren of  the  bench,  perhaps  you  wish  to  examine  the 
witness  further.” 

No  one  seemed  inclined,  however,  to  interfere  ; and 
then  he  turned  to  Father  Brennan  and  his  learned  com- 
panion, and  observed,  somewhat  quaintly,  that  the  his- 
tory of  the  rosary  was  a very  interesting  one,  and  likely 
to  involve  important  consequences. 

Important,  I trust,  for  your  young  friend  here,”  said 
the  priest,  in  reply.  Her  tender  devotion  to  the  Mother 
of  God,  and  her  constant  practice  of  saying  the  rosary, 
will  soon  find  their  reward,  I hope,  in  the  discovery  of  a 
long-lost  parent.” 

It’s  a very  curious  affair  all  through.” 

Remarkably  so  ; but  3^ou  know,  captain,  I often  told 
you  how  God  Almighty  makes  use  of  strange  means 
sometimes  to  accomplish  his  designs.  The  discovery  of 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


353 


one  rosary  by  the  loss  of  the  other,  is  clearly  provi- 
dential.^^ 

By  the  Lord  Harry,  it  looks  very  like  it,^^  exclaimed 
the  captain.  To  judge  from  the  circumstances,  one 
would  suppose  Providence  had  certainly  some  hand  in  it. 
But  we  must  try  to  get  through  the  business  of  the 
court  a little  faster,  or  we  shall  have  to  stay  here  all 
night.  Witness,^^  he  continued,  again  resuming  the  ex- 
amination, I have  another  question  to  ask  before  I dis- 
miss you.  Can  you  remember  what  day  it  was  Miss  Lee 
first  missed  her  rosary  ? 

I cannot,  sir,  exactly  ; but  I think  it  was  on  or  about 
the  time  Mr.  Weeks  paid  his  first  visit  to  the  light- 
house.^^ 

Yes  ; about  that  time,  you  think  — you  can^t  swear 
to  the  day  ? 

No  ; I can’t  swear  to  that  — but  Miss  Lee  is  here 
present ; ye  can  ask  her.” 

The  captain  hesitated  a moment  — at  a loss  whether 
to  call  on  Mary  for  her  testimony  in  presence  of  so  many 
spectators,  or  suffer  the  circumstance  to  pass  unnoticed, 
and  come  to  some  conclusion  respecting  the  cabin  boy 
without  further  delay.  His  deliberation,  however,  was 
suddenly  interrupted  by  the  sheriff,  who  now  rose  and 
begged  to  be  permitted  to  leave  with  his  prisoner  as 
soon  as  possible  — it  being  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  the 
distance  to  Lifford  jail  some  six  hours’  travel. 

What’s  the  amount  of  the  debt  ? ” demanded  Else, 
interrupting  the  captain,  who  was  about  to  reply  to  the 
sheriff.  Mr.  Lee  shan’t  leave  here  the  night  in  your 
costidy  if  I can  help  it.  How  much  is  the  debt  ? ” 

The  sheriff,  looking  for  an  instant  at  the  execution, 
named  the  sum. 

''Humph!”  ejaculated  Else,  running  her  hand  down 
into  her  pocket  and  drawing  out  her  wallet — " humph  1 
the  sum’s  big  but  I’ve  enough  here  to  pay  it.” 

" You  ? ” 

"Ay,  me.  Hah  I hah!  Isn’t  a witch’s  money  as 
good  as  a queen’s,  if  it’s  current  ? Mr.  Weeks  there 
30* 


§54 


MAIIY  LEE,  OR 


will  tell  ye  these  notes  come  fresh  from  the  bank ; hah, 
hah  ! 

Why,  how^s  this  ? demanded  the  captain  ; how  did 
you  come  by  this  large  amount  of  money  ? 

That^s  not  a fair  question,  captain,  and  I^m  not 
bound  to  answer  it ; but  to  plaze  ye  Til  tell  ye  : I got 
eighty  pounds  of  it  from  that  gentleman  there,  Mr. 
Weeks,  for  sarvices  rendered,  an  the  rest  here  in  goold  I 
saved  from  my  husband^s  earnins.  Here,  Misther  Sheriff, 
count  out  yer  money,  and  let  the  prisoner  go.^^ 

The  sheriff  took  the  bills  and  gold,  and  laid  them  on 
the  table  ; then  counting  over  the  amount  marked  on  the 
back  of  the  execution,  he  receipted  for  the  same,  and 
handed  the  document,  with  the  balance  of  the  money, 
over  to  the  witness. 

While  this  transaction  was  passing,  the  whole  audi- 
ence seemed  in  commotion ; every  one  expressing  his 
astonishment  to  his  neighbor,  that  a woman  of  so  infa- 
mous a character  as  the  fortune-teller  of  the  Cairn, 
should  thus  part  with  the  gold  she  loved  so  much  to 
save  a comparative  stranger  from  the  hands  of  the  law. 
Even  the  light-keeper  himself  was  taken  completely  by 
surprise,  and  the  magistrates  looked  at  one  another,  and 
shook  their  heads,  as  if  they  suspected  some  mischief 
at  the  bottom  of  it.  As  the  sheriff  was  about  to  con- 
sign the  bills  to  his  pocket-book,  a sudden  thought 
seemed  to  strike  him,  and  drawing  out  a small  bank 
detector,  he  laid  it  before  him,  and  took  up  one  of  the 
notes  to  examine  it. 

Humph  ! he  ejaculated,  after  a pause  of  considera- 
ble length  ; I might  have  suspected  as  much.  Wit- 
ness, let  me  see  that  note  of  hand  and  execution  for  a 
moment  — I fear  I made  a mistake. 

Too  late,  sheriff,^^  responded  the  old  woman  — too 
late  ; but  if  the  fragments  M be  of  any  use  to  ye,  they^re 
here  at  my  feet.^^ 

Anything  wrong  ? inquired  the  chairman. 

''Yes,  sir;  these  notes  are  counterfeits  on  the  Bank 
of  Dublin.^^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


355 


Counterfeits  ! 

Not  a doubt  of  it,  sir.  The  Dublin  Bank,  in  its  last 
circular,  cautions  the  public  against  tens  and  twenties, 
counterfeits  of  its  new  plates ; and  here,^^  he  added, 
handing  the  detector  and  one  of  the  notes  up  to  the 
bench,  ^^you  can  see  in  an  instant  the  plate  is  a 
forgery. 

The  captain  examined  it  for  a moment,  and  then  turn- 
ing to  the  witness,  demanded  to  know  if  she  could  affirm 
on  oath  these  notes  were  given  her  by  Mr.  Weeks. 

''  I protest  against  putting  that  question  to  a woman 
of  such  disreputable  character,  cried  Hard  wrinkle,  and 
but  this  moment  convicted  of  an  attempt  to  pass  coun- 
terfeit money.  I object  to  the  question. 

Those  of  the  spectators  within  hearing  of  this  unex- 
pected disclosure,  who  happened  to  have  had  any  deal- 
ings with  Weeks  during  his  short  stay  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, now  began  to  feel  alarmed  ; and  one  of  them,  a 
dealer  in  dry  goods,  who  had  furnished  him  with  fishing 
tackle,  gaffs,  landing  nets,  &c.,  stood  up  and  begged  to 
inform  the  bench  he  had  now  in  his  possession  a bank 
note  from  Weeks  in  payment  for  goods  delivered,  and 
prayed  the  chairman  to  examine  it. 

The  latter  took  the  paper,  and  after  looking  at  it  for  a 
moment,  pronounced  it  an  impression  from  the  same 
plate. 

Kerens  another,  plase  yer  honor, cried  a little  tailor, 
who  had  mounted  on  the  shoulders  of  his  neighbors,  and 
flourished  a bill  over  the  heads  of  the  audience  ; here^s 
another  I got  from  Mr.  Hard  wrinkle,  and  Fm  afeerd  it^s 
of  the  same  family.’^ 

Send  it  up.^’ 

The  tailor’s  note,  like  the  haberdasher’s,  proved  also 
to  be  a counterfeit. 

Clerk,”  said  the  captain,  make  out  a warrant  in- 
stantly for  the  arrest  of  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks,  in  the 
name  of  the  state,  on  a charge  of  having  uttered  coun- 
terfeit money.” 

**  And  I,”  said  the  light-keeper,  as  Mary  Lee’s  guar- 


356 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


dian,  charge  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks  with  having  stolen 
that  young  lady^s  rosary  from  my  house  at  Araheera 
Head/' 

Clerk,  when  you  have  made  out  the  warrant,  take 
Mr.  Lee's  deposition.  Witness,"  he  added,  motioning 
to  Else  Curley,  ^^you  have  done  — you  may  retire." 

Ay,  ay,"  muttered  Else,  drawing  the  hood  of  her 
^ old  gray  cloak  over  her  head  as  she  turned  to  leave  the 
witness  stand  ; Fll  retire  now,  but  there's  more  work 
to  be  done  yit  afore  the  sun  sets.  Let  the  wrong-doers 
luck  to  themselves." 

Stop,  woman  ! for  whom  is  that  threat  intended  ? " 
demanded  Hard  wrinkle. 

Ask  yer  own  conscience,"  replied  Else,  halting  on 
her  step,  and  casting  back  a look  of  intense  hatred  at 
her  persecutor ; ask  yer  own  conscience,  if  ye  have 
any.  All  I say  to  ye  now,  Robert  Hardwrinkle  — luck  to 
yerself,  for  God  will  soon  call  ye  to  yer  reckonin  ; and 
so  saying,  the  old  woman  slowly  descended  the  steps,  and 
silently  took  her  place  close  by  the  dock  where  Randall 
Barry  stood  patiently  awaiting  his  doom. 

The  reader,  perhaps,  may  think  it  strange  that  such 
insulting  language  as  Else  Curley  uttered  during  her  ex- 
amination should  have  been  permitted  in  a court  of  jus- 
tice ; but  it  must  be  remembered  that  Else  bore  the  rep- 
utation of  witch  and  sorceress,  and  in  that  character 
claimed  for  herself  privileges  and  immunities  which  no 
ordinary  woman  would  dare  have  aspired  to.  Besides, 
she  was  well  aware  that  as  long  as  Captain  Petersham 
presided  in  court,  she  had  little  reason  to  fear  Hardwrin- 
kle's  resentment.  In  addition  to  all  this,  however.  Else 
Curley  was  naturally  a bold,  fearless  woman.  Her  look, 
her  speech,  her  very  gait  proclaimed  her  such  the  mo- 
ment she  appeared.  Supercilious  to  her  equals,  she  was 
as  arrogant  in  her  intercourse  with  those  above  her ; and 
very  likely  had  the  judges  of  assize  presided  in  that  court 
house,  surrounded  by  all  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of 
supreme  judicial  power,  instead  of  humble  county  magis- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND.  357 

trates,  Else’s  conduct  towards  Hardwrinkle  would  have 
undergone  but  little  change. 

''  Miss  Lee/^  said  the  chairman,  when  Else  had  retired, 

I regret  exceedingly  to  be  obliged  to  call  on  you  for 
testimony  in  this  case,  or  rather,  that  your  uncle's  dep- 
osition, just  made,  requires  it.  But  you  will  perceive 
it's  a matter  of  grave  importance,  and  needs  a thorough 
and  patient  investigation.  Have  the  goodness,  if  you 
please,  to  take  the  witness  stand." 

As  Mary  rose  and  advanced,  leaning  on  Kate's  arm, 
her  whole  frame  trembled,  and  her  heart  seemed  to  sink 
within  her  at  the  thought  of  being  exposed  and  ques- 
tioned before  so  many  spectators.  In  passing  the  dock 
where  Randall  Barry  stood  shackled,  patiently  awaiting 
his  trial,  she  raised  her  handkerchief  to  her  face,  under 
her  veil,  as  if  to  hide  it  more  effectually  from  her  lover's 
gaze,  and  timidly  ascended  the  platform. 

The  moment  the  audience  saw  the  graceful  figure  of 
the  young  witness,  and  heard  it  whispered  about  she  was 
the  light-keeper's  daughter,  a general  rush  was  made  in 
the  direction  of  the  bench.  Those  in  front  forced  their 
way  along  the  passages  either  side  the  council  table,  and, 
despite  the  threats  and  efforts  of  both  policemen  and 
magistrates,  succeeded  in  obtaining  positions  where  they 
could  behold  the  far-famed  beauty  of  Araheera  Head. 

'*Your  name  is  Mary  Lee — is  it  not?"  began  the 
captain,  after  silence  was  again  restored. 

Yes,  sir." 

Will  the  witness  have  the  goodness  to  remove  her 
veil  ? " said  Hardwrinkle. 

Mary  trembled  as  she  heard  the  words,  but  made  no 
motion  to  comply  with  the  order. 

I must  insist  upon  it,  however  painful." 

''  Miss  Lee,  I fear  you  must  gratify  the  gentleman  in 
this  little  matter,"  said  the  captain.  According  to  the 
usage  of  the  court,  the  witness  should  uncover  the  face 
during  examination.  I had  hoped,  indeed,  Mr.  Hard- 
wrinkle, under  the  painful  circumstances  of  the  case, 


358 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


might  have  waived  this  point  of  court  etiquette ; but  I 
find  I have  been  mistaken/^ 

Mary  slowly  raised  her  veil,  and,  with  trembling  hands, 
laid  it  gently  over  her  shoulder.  As  she  did  so,  a mur- 
mur of  admiration  broke  from  the  crowd  of  spectators, 
like  that  we  sometimes  hear  at  public  exhibitions,  when 
the  covering  is  removed  from  the  face  of  a beautiful 
statue. 

''  God  bless  me  I how  lovely  she  is  ! exclaimed  one 
of  the  magistrates,  unconscious  of  what  he  said,  and 
gazing  on  her  face  as  if  it  had  been  a vision. 

And  well  he  might  gaze,  for  never  saw  he  such  a form 
and  face  before.  And  yet  it  was  not  so  much  in  those 
features,  so  perfectly  moulded  by  the  plastic  hand  of 
Nature,  that  her  beauty  lay,  as  in  the  angelic  blush  and 
unaffected  modesty  with  which  her  pure  soul  had  so  radi- 
antly suffused  them. 

Dear  reader,  this  lovely  girl  was  a child  of  Mary  — an 
humble,  gentle  servant  of  the  Mother  of  Jesus.  And 
there  lay  the  great  secret  of  her  beauty.  The  perfection 
of  her  features  nature  gave  her,  but  that  which  defies  all 
the  art  of  the  sculptor  or  the  painter  — that  inexpressible 
charm  which  animated  them  — was  the  gift  of  religion. 

Looking  at  this  exquisite  being,  as  she  stood  there  be- 
fore the  admiring  multitude,  her  eyes  cast  down,  and  her 
cheeks  covered  with  blushes,  one  could  hardly  help  think- 
ing of  those  fine  lines  of  Williamses  Sister  of  Charity  : — 

Thy  soothing  how  gentle ! thy  pity  how  tender ! 

Choir-music  thy  voice  is,  thy  step  angel  gi'ace, 

And  thy  union  with  Deity  shrines  in  a splendor 
Subdued,  but  unearthly,  thy  spiritual  face. 

Miss  Lee,  have  the  goodness  to  look  at  this,  and  see 
if  you  can  recognize  it,^^  resumed  the  captain,  handing 
her  the  rosary. 

After  a mementos  examination,  she  replied  in  the  nega- 
tive. 

Any  marks  by  which  you  can  distinguish  it  from 
yours  ? 


THE  YANKJEE  IN  IRELAND. 


359 


Mine,  sir,^^  she  replied,  **  was  much  more  worn  than 
this.^' 

''  Ah  ! from  constant  use,  I suppose/^  said  the  captain. 

Mary  kept  her  eyes  cast  down,  but  said  nothing  in 
reply. 

‘'Don^t  blush,  my  child,  don’t  blush;  you  love  your 
religion,  and  practise  it.  I wish  to  Heaven  we  could  all 
say  as  much  for  ourselves.  As  to  the  devotion  of  the 
rosary,  though  I’m  far  from  being  a Catholic  myself,  I 
look  upon  it  as  the  most  beautiful  devotion  in  the  world.” 

Thank  you,  captain,”  said  the  priest;  thank  you 
for  your  generous  testimony.  You’ll  find,”  he  added, 
before  very  long,  there’s  a charm  in  the  rosary  you  lit- 
tle suspected.  The  Immaculate  Virgin,  whom  that  spot- 
less creature  has  so  long  served  with  such  tender  affec- 
tion, will  not  suffer  her  love  to  go  unrequited.” 

don’t  know,  but  by  the  Lord  Harry,”  responded 
the  burly  captain,  I’m  beginning  to  think  there’s  some 
mysterious  influence  at  work  ; ” and  he  hitched  his  chair 
a little  closer  to  the  desk,  as  if  he  felt  an  increasing  in- 
terest in  the  investigation. 

And  now,  Miss  Lee,  can  you  inform  the  bench  when 
you  missed  the  rosary  ? ” 

On  the  I2th  of  — ” 

From  what  place  ? ” 

''  From  an  old  family  Bible,  in  which  I usually  kept 
it.” 

''  Did  you  make  a thorough  search  for  it  ? ” 

Yes,  sir.” 

"'Did  you  see  Mr.  Weeks,  here  present,  at  the  light- 
house on  that  day  ? ” 

I did,  sir.” 

Where  — in  what  part  of  the  honse  ? ” 

In  the  parlor.” 

Was  it  in  that  room  you  kept  the  Bible  ? ” 

Yes,  sir.” 

Did  any  other  person  visit  the  lighthouse  on  that 
day  ? ” 

A gentleman  called,  but  did  not  enter  the  parlor.” 


360 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


I have  but  one  more  question  to  ask,  Miss  Lee.  Are 
you  of  opinion  that  some  one  not  a member  of  your  fami- 
ly took  or  stole  the  rosary  ? 

I am,  sir.^^ 

''  Whom  do  you  suspect  ? 

**  I know  of  no  one  who  could  have  taken  it  but  the 
gentleman  I saw  in  the  parlor. 

'^That^s  enough,  Miss  Lee  — you  may  retire,^^  said 
the  captain,  leaning  hack  in  his  chair.  Gentlemen, 
he  continued,  addressing  his  associates,  the  testimony  of 
the  sick  girl,  Mr.  Hardwrinkle^s  servant,  who  found  the 
rosary  on  the  floor  of  Weekses  room,  the  morning  after  his 
first  visit  to  the  lighthouse,  and  Miss  Lee^s  corroborative 
evidence,  make  the  case  a pretty  clear  one  against 
Weeks  ; and  as  it  comes  within  our  jurisdiction,  being 
but  a case  of  petty  theft,  we  must  commit  him,  and  send 
the  forgery  affair  up  to  a higher  court. 

^'Hold  on  a minute, exclaimed  the  Yankee;  ''you 
ain^t  a-going  to  commit  me,  I expect,  without  hearing  me 
in  my  own  defence 

" Well,  sir,  go  on,^^  replied  the  chairman ; " proceed, 
but  don^t  be  long  about  it,  for  we  haven’t  much  time  to 
spare.  This  trial  has  taken  up  too  much  of  our  time  al- 
ready.” 

" Well,”  said  Weeks,  gathering  in  his  legs  and  rising 
to  his  feet,  '*  I can’t  say  I know  much  of  English  law, 
though  I do  think  I’m  pretty  well  posted  up  in  law  of  the 
States.  But,  gents,  I’ve  got  a sorter  notion  — well,  I may 
be  mistaken,  ye  know  — but  still,  I’ve  got  a sorter  notion 
that  there’s  no  law  to  be  found  in  any  civilized  country 
in  the  world  to  punish  a man  when  he  hain’t  committed 
no  crime.  I guess  that’s  a point  won’t  admit  of  much 
dispute,  any  how.  Well,  let’s  see  now  what  injustice  I 
have  committed.  There’s  Miss  Lee  to  begin  with  ; I 
hain’t  stolen  her  rosary.  I took  it,  I allow  — inadver- 
tently put  it  in  my  pocket ; but  I had  no  intention  of 
stealing  it,  not  a mite.  We  Yankees  ain’t  a given  to 
hooking,  as  a general  thing ; it  ain’t  our  nature.  We 
speklate  once  in  a while  beyond  our  capital,  and  come 


THE  YANB^EE  IN  IRELAND. 


361 


it  over  greenhorns  now  and  then  in  the  way  of  trade,  but 
hooking  ain^t  a Yankee  trick,  no  now,  specially  such  a 
tid-re-eye  consarn  as  that.  I acknowledge  I took  it, 
gents,  and  you  may  do  what  you Ve  a mind  to  about  it ; 
but  as  for  hooking  the  affair,  I swonnie  I never  thought 
of  it  from  the  time  I left  the  lighthouse  till  cousin  Rebec- 
ca showed  me  the  darned  thing  a day  or  two  after,  and 
called  me  a Papist  in  disguise  for  having  it  in  my  pos- 
session. Now,  as  to  this  old  lady  here,  she  hain^t  got 
nothing  to  complain  of  either,  that  I know  of.  The  hull 
amount  of  the  matter  is,  she  did  nothing  for  me,  and  I 
paid  her  nothing  ; ain^t  that  so,  gents  ? Ha,  ha  ! the  old 
thing  thought  she  was  smart — and  so  she  is  a darned 
sight  smarter  than  I took  her  for  — but  she  forgot  she  had 
a Yankee  to  deal  with  ; and  Weeks  shut  one  eye  as  he 
spoke,  and  thrust  his  hands  down  into  his  breeches  pock- 
ets — she  forgot  she’d  a Yankee  to  deal  with,  a live 
Yankee,  with  his  eye  peeled,  and  fresh  from  Connecti- 
cut/^ 

Here  the  magistrates,  after  commanding  silence  several 
times,  (for  the  audience  got  so  tickled  at  Weekses  lan- 
guage and  gestures  they  could  no  longer  restrain  them- 
selves,) at  length  broke  out  into  a loud  laugh,  the  cap- 
tain^s  fat  sides  shaking  as  he  turned  to  and  fro  to  say  a 
merry  word  to  the  priest  or  his  next  neighbor  on  the 
bench. 

Silence,  you  rascals  down  below  there, he  cried, 
when  he  recovered  himself.  ''  Canft  a man  speak  without 
a brogue  on  his  tongue,  but  you  must  laugh  at  him  ? Si- 
lence, and  let  the  man  be  heard. 

''  Stand  him  up,  captain,  jewel ; stand  him  up  on  the 
table — we  canft  hear  him,’^  responded  several  voices  in 
the  crowd. 

Up  with  him  ! up  with  him  ! ’’  now  became  the  gen- 
eral cry,  and  Weeks,  in  the  midst  of  the  uproar,  mounted 
the  table,  and  trusting  to  his  own  resources  to  elicit 
sympathy  from  the  audience,  boldly  resumed  his  defence. 

Well,’^  said  he,  pulling  up  his  shirt  collar  and  push- 
ing back  his  long  sandy  hair  behind  his  ears,  as  he  looked 
31 


862 


MAEY  LEE,  OE 


round  the  hall — '"well,  ladies  and  gents,  I guess  I 
hain^t  got  a great  deal  more  to  say.  All  of  you  know 
pretty  much  by  this  time  that  Pm  a stranger  in  these 
parts,  and  I know,  on  the  other  hand,  you^re  Irish  to  a 
man.  Well,  I ain^t  a-goin  to  make  the  inference  — no,  I 
leave  that  to  yourself.  All  I shall  say  is,  the  Irish  at 
hum  and  abroad  are  famous  for  their  hospitality  to  the 
stranger. 

Be  aisy,  avourneen,^^  said  somebody  near  the  door  ; 
''  be  aisy  now,  and  don’t  be  try  in  to  soft  soap  us  that 
way.  Don^t  ye  remimber  the  weddin  at  Ballymagahey  ? ” 

Well,  there  ! ” exclaimed  Weeks,  turning  round  to 

look. 

Who^s  that  ? ” demanded  the  captain. 

By  thunder  ! if  it  ain^t  the  tarnal  rascal  again ! ” 

Who  ? 

**  Lanty  Hanlon,  if  he’s  alive.” 

Impossible  — the  police  are  now  in  pursuit  of  him.” 

**  Well,  pursuit  or  not,”  replied  Weeks,  ''  if  he’s  out 
of  limbo,  that’s  he,  or  I ain’t  Ephraim  0.  B.  Weeks.” 

Police,  see  who  that  fellow  is,”  said  the  captain. 

Lanty  Hanlon’s  the  man,  and  no  mistake,”  repeated 
Weeks.  I could  swear  to  his  voice  on  the  top  of 
Mount  Tom.” 

''Ho  there  I at  the  door  below  I has  the  detachment 
from  Milfred  arrived  ? ” demanded  Hardwrinkle. 

The  answer  came  up  in  the  affirmative. 

" Then  let  search  be  made  instantly  for  Lanty  Hanlon. 
You,  sergeant,  hold  a warrant  for  his  arrest  — see  that 
he  escape  not,  at  your  peril.” 

" What  I how’s  this  ? ” demanded  Captain  Petersham 
— "a  reenforcement  without  my  knowledge  or  consent  ? ” 

" I apprehended  a riot  and  rescue  of  the  prisoner,” 
replied  Hardwrinkle. 

"Hal  a rescue!  ” and  the  captain  turned  to  look  at 
the  young  outlaw.  " Eescue  a man  with  a broken  arm, 
under  charge  of  constables  ! What,  shackled,  too  ! — 
good  heavens  ! this  is  barbarous.  Constable,  remove 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


363 


those  irons  — off  with  them  instantly.  What ! chained 
like  a felon,  even  before  he  is  found  guilty  1 

''  He^s  a bold,  daring  fellow, pleaded  Hardwrinkle. 

Psaugh  I psaugh  ! sir,  your  explanation  only  makes 
the  matter  worse.  Your  conduct's  a disgrace  to  this 
bench,  sir,  and  an  outrage  on  the  feelings  of  your  brother 
magistrates.^' 

Hush,  hush  ! ' captain,"  remonstrated  the  priest,  lay- 
ing his  hand  on  his  friend's  arm  and  speaking  low. 

You  must  take  another  time  and  place  to  rebuke  Mr. 
Hardwrinkle." 

No,  sir,  I shall  not,"  replied  the  indignant  captain. 

This  is  the  proper  time  and  place  to  rebuke  him  ; and 
I tell  him  now,  here  in  open  court,  that  his  conduct 
throughout  this  whole  affair  has  been  both  unchristian 
and  ungentlemanly." 

Captain  Petersham,  you  know  I'm  a man  of  peace,!' 
said  Hardwrinkle,  or  you  would  hardly  dare  to  utter 
such  language  here." 

Dare  I " and  the  captain  turned  on  him  such  a look  as 
might  have  withered  him  up. 

I shall  quit  the  court  under  protest,"  said  Hard- 
wrinkle, rising,  since  neither  the  law  nor  the  feelings 
of  a gentleman  are  respected  here." 

''Not  an  inch,  sir.  Move  but  one  step  from  where 
you  stand,  and  I commit  you." 

" What  I commit  me  ? " 

" Ay,  you,  sir,  for  conspiring  with  your  worthy  cousin 
there  to  carry  off  by  force  and  violence  the  person  of 
Mary  Lee,  in  an  open  boat  from  Araheera  Head  to  Malin- 
more,  in  the  event  of  her  not  consenting  to  the  marriage. 
I have  now,  sir,  in  my  possession  due  information  to  that 
effect,  sworn  by  two  of  the  very  men  you  engaged  to 
execute  that  damnable  design." 

" The  charge  is  false,"  said  Hardwrinkle,  but  in  tones 
so  low  and  husky  that  the  very  sounds  spoke  his  guilt. 

" And  that  no  time  might  be  lost,"  pursued  the  cap- 
tain, without  noticing  the  denial,  — " that  no  time  might 
be  lost,  the  young  lady  was  to  have  been  carried  off  this 


364 


MAEY  LEE,  OR 


very  night,  as  soon  as  the  sheriff  had  removed  her  uncle, 
and  no  one  left  to  protect  her,  in  that  remote  and  des- 
olate spot,  but  her  old  and  feeble  servant,  Roger 
O^Shaughnessy/^ 

Here  a murmur  of  indignation  ran  through  the  audi- 
ence, and  every  eye  turned  on  Hardwrinkle.  That  gen- 
tleman made  no  reply,  however,  but  after  a mementos 
reflection  quietly  resumed  his  seat,  as  if  he  had  made*  up 
his  mind  to  bear  his  sufierings  with  the  patience  and 
humility  of  a martyr. 

During  the  interruption.  Weeks  stood  on  the  table,  or 
platform,  with  his  hands  driven  down  into  his  breeches 
pockets,  and  apparently  as  little  concerned  at  what  was 
passing  as  if  Hardwrinkle  had  not  been  a drop^s  blood 
to  him  in  the  world. Even  when  the  charge  of  con- 
spiring to  carry  ofi’  Mary  Lee  was  made  • against  that 
respectable  relation,  he  hitched  up  his  shoulders,  and 
jingled  the  silver  as  usual,  but  showed  no  sign  of  either 
surprise  or  resentment.  At  length,  however,  silence  was 
restored,  and  at  a nod  from  the  chairman.  Weeks  again 
pulled  up  his  shirt  collar  and  resumed  his  defence. 

Well,  ladies  and  gents,  I ain^t  a-goin  to  detain  you 
long.  No  ; speech-making  ain^t  in  my  line  ; but  still,  you 
know,  every  man  should  be  able  to  tell  his  own  story. 
Well,  as  to  this  darned  old  critter  here,  half  devil,  half 
catamount,  I guess  I have  given  a pretty  considerable 
fair  account  of  my  transaction  with  her  — well,  enough 
to  show  I hain^t  done  her  no  wrong,  any  how.  Then,  as 
to  the  dry  goods  man,  let  him  produce  his  bill,  and  if  I 
hain^t  paid  him  the  full  value  of  his  goods  already  in 
pure  gold,  independent  of  the  fifty  dollar  note,  why,  Fm 
ready  to  sufier  the  consequences  ; that^s  all.  I calklate, 
gents,  to  give  every  man  his  due,  but  dang  a copper 
more  ; and  if  I find  a man  tryin  to  impose  on  me,  I 
manage,  some  how  or  other,  to  pay  him  off  in  his  own 
coin.  I repeat  it,  gents,  let  this  dry  goods  man,  who 
supplied  me  with  fishing  tackle  and  all  that  sorter  thing, 
let  him  stand  up  here  and  produce  his  bill.  That^s  plain 
talk;  ain^t  it,  gents?  Well,  then,  all  that  remains  now, 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


365 


is  to  account  for  my  transaction  with  Mr.  Hardwrinkle 
here  about  that  note.  It  goes  agin  me  to  do  it,  it  does 
— that’s  a fact ; but  considering  the  fix  I’ve  got  into,  I 
feel  bound  to  go  through  with  it.  Mr.  Hardwrinkle  may 
feel  a little  put  out  about  it,  I guess,  but  he’s  here,  you 
know,  on  his  own  soil,  while  I’m  a stranger,  and  nothing 
to  depend  on  but  the  bare  truth.  Besides,  this  is  about 
the  last  day,  I reckon,  I can  spend  conveniently  in  this 
section  of  the  country,  and  for  the  sake  of  New  England, 
should  like  to  leave  it  with  a good  name.” 

And  why  wudn’t  ye,  asthore  — by  the  powers,  ye 
earned  it  richly,”  said  some  one  close  by,  in  a stage 
whisper.  Faith,  yer  a credit  to  the  country  ye  came 
from,  avourneen,^^ 

Silence,  there,”  commanded  the  chairman,  hardly 
able  to  suppress  ’a  laugh  ; silence,  there,  and  respect 
the  court.” 

''Go  ahead,”  cried  Weeks,  "whoever  you  be;  go 
ahead  ; I’ll  wait  till  you’ve  got  through.  I ain’t  in  no 
hurry.” 

" Proceed,  Mr.  Weeks,  and  don’t  mind  the  fellow.” 

" Well,  the  hull  amount  of  the  matter  is,  the  note  cost 
Mr.  Hardwrinkle  nothing,  not  the  first  brass  cent ; he 
got  it  from  a Dublin  attorney,  on  commission,  to  make 
the  most  he  could  on’t.” 

Hardwrinkle  here  attempted  to  interrupt  him,  but  the 
captain  interposed,  and  the  speaker  continued. 

"I  ain’t  surprised  at  Mr.  Hard  wrinkle’s  gettin  riled, 
not  a mite,  for  I swonnie  it  looks  kinder  mean  in  me  to 
talk  so  after  enjoying  his  hospitality ; but  I’ve  got  into  a 
sorter  snarl,  gents,  you  see,  about  this  here  marriage 
concern,  and  I must  tell  the  truth,  for  I don’t  see  any 
other  chance  of  getting  out  of  it.  Well,  then,  to  be 
plain  about  it,  we  had  an  understanding — Mr.  Hard- 
wrinkle and  I had  — well,  it  was  just  like  this  : if  we 
succeeded  in  getting  rid  of  Lee  by  means  of  the  note, 
and  could  then  induce  the  young  lady  to  marry  right 
straight  off,  or,  if  she  refused,  to  carry  her  ofi*  to  the 
nearest  place  we  could  catch  a vessel  bound  for  the 
31* 


366 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


States  — I say,  if  we  succeeded  in  this,  Mr.  Hardwrin- 
kle  was  to  have  ten  thousand  dollars  cash,  and  I run  the 
risk  of  the  note,  succeed  or  fail.^^ 

Scoundrel  ! ejaculated  Hardwrinkle,  hissing  the 
words  between  his  teeth.  Gentlemen,  this  is  the  most 
outrageous  falsehood  — 

'' Psaugh  I hold  on  a bit — don^t  get  riled.  Cousin 
Robert. 

But  what  could  I expect,  when  the  fellow^s  ignorant 
of  the  very  first  principles  of  religion 

Do  say  ! Well,  I never  made  much  pretension  about 
it,  you  know,  cousin,  and  so  you  couldn^t  expect  much 
from  me  in  that  line  ; but  for  you,  who^s  praying  and 
reading  the  Bible  most  part  the  time  through  the  week, 
and  Sabbath  especially,  why,  it  was  going  it  a leetle  mite 
too  strong  to  try  to  do  me  out  that*  note  — warn^t  it 
now.  Cousin  Robert  ? By  crackie.  Bob,  for  a pious.  God- 
fearing man,  you^re  about  as  smart  a one  as  Vwe  met 
since  I left  Connecticut ; you  are,  I swow ; no  mistake 
about  it.  But,  gents,  I don^t  see  no  use  now  in  talking 
over  the  matter  further.  I was  a-goin  to  produce  Mr. 
Hardwrinkle^ s letters  to  me  before  I left  the  States  about 
this  here  marriage,  to  show  you  I ain^t  the  only  one  to 
blame  in  the  transaction  ; but  I guess  it^s  just  as  well  to 
let  the  matter  drop  as  it  is.  As  regards  the  speculation 
I came  here  on,  why,  all  can  be  said  about  it  is,  I failed 
— that^s  the  amount  of  it.  The  fact  is,  gents,  I always 
heard  the  Irish  were  an  almighty  green  sort  of  folks, 
both  at  hum  and  abroad,  and  thought  a Yankee,  specially 
a Connecticut  Yankee,  had  nothing  to  do  but  go  right 
straight  along  soon^s  he  got  among  them  ; but  I find 
now  I made  a slight  mistake  in  that  respect.  It  ain^t 
so,  gents  ; the  Irish  at  hum  ain^t  so  green  by  a long 
chalk  as  some  Vve  met  in  Vermont.^^ 

Nor  all  the  Yankees  so  smart  as  they  think,^^  added 
the  captain,  smiling. 

Well,  sometimes  we  get  sniggled,  you  know,  like 
the  rest  of  folks.  Well,  iPs  just  like  this  : we  hain^t 
got  to  our  full  growth  yet,  but  give  us  fifty  years  more 


THE  YAl^KEE  IN  IRELAND. 


367 


to  get  our  eye  teeth  cut,  and  I tell  you  what,  captain, 
should  like  to  see  the  foreigner  then  could  come  the 
blind  side  of  us  ; that  man  M be  a caution,  I tell  ye. 
As  for  Mr.  Hardwrinkle  here,  I don^t  wonder  he^s  smart, 
for  he  belongs  to  a pretty  considerable  smart  kinder 
family.  Well,  he^s  got  a cousin  in  Ducksville,  name  of 
Weeks,  said  to  be  about  as  smart  a man  as  you  can 
scare  up  in  that  section  of  the  country ; and  still  he 
hain’t  been  a hundred  miles  from  home,  I guess,  all  his 
lifetime. 

Brother  of  yours,  I suppose, said  the  captain. 

Well,  no,  he  ain^t.^^ 

I thought,  being  a Ducksville  man,  and  a cousin  of 
Mr.  Hardwrinkle^s  here,  he  might  be  your  brother,  or 
cousin,  at  least. 

No,  not  exactly  ; he’s  much  about  the  same,  though, 
we’ve  always  been  so  intimate.  It  was  he  first  told  me 
of  his  relations  here,  the  Hard  wrinkles.” 

First  told  you!  What,  did  you  not  know  that  al- 
ready ? ” 

''  No  ; can’t  say  I did.” 

Are  you  not  Mr.  Hardwrinkle’s  cousin?  ” 

Not  that  I know  of.” 

Not  that  you  know  of!  why,  how’s  this  ? Have  you 
not  passed  for  a cousin  of  Mr.  Hardwrinkle’s  since  you 
came  to  reside  here  ? ” 

Well,  yes,  pretty  much,  I guess.” 

Pretty  much  ! Why,  sir  — ” 

''Hold  on,”  said  Weeks,  "hold  on  a moment,  cap- 
tain ; I can  explain  that,  too,  quite  to  your  satisfaction, 
I reckon.  The  Weeks  family,  then,  you  must  know,  and 
ourn  were  terrible  intimate,  being  next  neighbors  for  a 
little  more  than  twenty  years — well,  the  fact  is,  we  got 
to  be  so  intimate  we  never  made  any  difference  with  re- 
spect to  relationship,  or  that  sorter  thing  — not  a mite.” 

" Stop ; you  don’t  apprehend  the  question,  I suspect; 
I want  you,  sir,  to  tell  us  in  plain  terms,  and  briefly  as 
possible,  whether  you  are.  Or  are  not,  a relative  of  Mr. 
Robert  Hardwrinkle  here  present ; ” and  the  captain 


368 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


motioned  to  the  latter  gentleman,  who,  to  the  infinite 
merriment  of  the  beholders,  kept  gazing  at  the  Yankee 
in  undisguised  astonishment. 

''  Well,  come  to  think  of  it,^^  replied  Weeks,  as  if  he 
had  been  trying  hard  to  recollect  himself,  come  to 
think  of  it,  I guess  there  is  some  relationship.^’ 

You  guess  there  is  ! ” 

Yes,  I rather  think  so  — by  marriage.” 

Mr.  Weeks,”  said  Hard  wrinkle,  remember  you  are 
now  in  a court  of  justice.” 

Allow  me,  Mr.  Hardwrinkle,”  interposed  the  chair- 
man ; I shall  finish  in  a minute  or  two.  Your  turn 
comes  next.  You  say  you  guess  there  is  some  relation- 
ship by  marriage,  Mr.  Weeks.” 

Yes  ; one  of  the  Weeks  married  a Bigelow,  if  I don’t 
greatly  mistake,  somewhere  about  the  end  of  the  revolu- 
tionary war  or  thereaway.  I kinder  think  Uncle  Nathan 
used  to  — ” 

Stop,  stop,  sir  ! Confound  you  and  Uncle  Nathan. 
You  can’t  speak  a sentence,  sir,  but  you  have  Uncle  Na- 
than at  the  head  and  tail  of  it.  Answer  at  once,  sir  ; 
are  you  or  are  you  not  a cousin  of  Mr.  Hard  wrinkle’s  ? ” 
Why,  as  to  blood  relationship,  I guess  there  ain’t 
much  of  that  to  speak  of.  But  still  it  amounts  to  pretty 
much  the  same  thing  in  the  end.  The  Weeks  and  Bige- 
lows were  always  in  and  out,  you  know,  like  one  family. 
And  then  young  Ephraim  and  I — or  Eph,  as  we  used  to 
call  him  ’bout  the  doors  — went  to  school  together  for 
eight  or  ten  years,  and  never  kept  a secret  from  one 
another  more  than  if  we  had  been  twin  brothers.” 

Well,  by  the  Lord  Harry,”  cried  the  captain,  turn- 
ing to  his  associates,  if  this  ain’t  the  coolest  fellow  I’ve 
met  in  my  day  I And  so,”  he  continued,  looking  at  the 
imperturbable  Yankee,  ^'it  turns  out  at  last  there’s  no 
relationship  at  all  between  you  ! ” 

No,  guess  not,  except  by  marriage.  Still,  it’s  much 
about  the  same  thing.  The  Weeks  have  always  been  as 
intimate  with  us  as  cousins  Could  be.  Well,  in  fact  we 
were  cousins  in  every  thing  but  the  near  blood?” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


369 


Ha,  ha  ! laughed  the  captain  ; this  is  capital,  eh  ! 
Not  only  outwitted  your  friend  here  by  passing  counter- 
feit bills,  but  passed  yourself  off,  too,  as  his  American 
cousin,  eating  and  drinking  of  the  best  in  his  house. 
Ha,  ha  ! by  George,  that  beats  Bannaher.^^  — Here  the  au- 
dience, at  length  fully  comprehending  how  matters  stood, 
broke  out  into  a general  laugh,  in  the  midst  of  which 
a curly-headed  fellow,  mounting  on  a window-sill,  waved 
his  hat  and  shouted  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  ''  More 
power  to  ye.  Weeks,  more  power  to  ye,  Ma  bonchal.*^ 
^Pon  my  conscience,  captain,  jewel,  iPs  chaired  he 
ought  to  be,  instid  of  sint  to  jail,^^  cried  another. 

The  chairman  now  rose  to  command  silence  in  the 
court,  but  was  met  with  cheers  for  Weeks  and  groans 
for  Hardwrinkle.  Hurrah  for  the  bowld  Yankee  — 
down  with  the  black  sarpint.^^ 

Order  ! police,  keep  order  tliere  below  ! Silence, 
you  vagabonds,  silence  ! cried  the  captain;  ^^this  is 
pretty  conduct  in  a court  of  justice. 

'^Send  him  out  till  we  chair  him,  captain,  send  him 
out ; he  desarves  it  for  puttin  the  ' Leek  ^ in  Black 
Eobert.^^ 

The  police,  after  several  efforts,  at  length  succeeded  in 
restoring  silence,  and  the  chairman  was  about  to  take  up 
the  charge  against  Randall  Barry,  when  Weeks,  who  still 
coolly  maintained  his  position  in  front  of  the  bench,  his 
hands,  as  usual,  driven  down  into  his  pockets,  begged 
leave  to  say  a word  or  two  before  he  left. 

I shan’t  keep  you  long,^^  he  said ; no,  a word  or 
two  is  all  Pve  got  to  say.  I came  to  this  country, 
gents,  as  most  of  you  know  by  this  time,  on  a matrimo- 
nial speculation.  Well,  I failed  — I did  — no  mistake 
about  that.  Now,  then,  gents,  all  I ask  in  return  for  my 
loss  of  time  and  money  — not  to  speak  of  several  mis- 
haps in  trying  to  put  the  thing  through  — is  simply 
this  : that  you  wonH  let  the  darned  affair  get  into  the 
newspapers.  Vm  a Yankee,  gents,  a full-blooded  Yan- 
kee, of  the  old  Puritan  stock,  and  should  hate,  of  all 
things,  to  have  it  known  that  a New  Englander — and  a 


370 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Connecticut  man  at  that  — could  be  taken  in  by  the  Irish. 
I swonnie,  IM  rather  put  for  Texas  right  straight  off, 
than  return  to  the  States,  and  find  it  published  all  over 
the  country  ; I would  by  a long  chalk.  Why,  I should 
ever  after  be  looked  on  as  a disgrace  to  Yankee  land. 
So,  as  I said  before,  I^m  willing  to  put  up  with  the  hull 
of  it  if  you  only  promise  me  this  tarnal  trial  shan^t  get 
into  the  newspapers. 

Cool  again, said  the  captain  ; put  up  with  it  in- 
deed ! Any  thing  more  to  say  ? 

**  No,  Pve  got  through,  I guess. 

**  Very  well,  sir.  Constable,  take  this  man  in  charge.^^ 

Hold  on  a minute, cried  Weeks. 

Take  him  away.^^ 

See  here  ! Hold  on  I Hain^t  you  made  a mistake  ? 
What^s  the  crime  ? 

**  Passing  counterfeit  notes  on  the  National  Bank.^^ 

But  who^s  cheated,  I should  like  to  know  ? 

Away  with  him,^^  commanded  the  captain. 

**  Look  here  I 

''  Silence,  sir,  and  quit  the  stand  instantly.’^ 

Well,  now,  I swonnie,  if  this  ain’t  goin  it  a leetle 
too  strong,”  muttered  Weeks,  as  he  stepped  from  J:he 
platform,  in  the  hands  of  the  constable.  I ain’t  gone 
to  the  county  house  yet,  though  ! No,  I sorter  reckon 
not.  By  crackie,  captain,  you’d  better  look  out,  for  I 
tell  you  what,  my  dear  fellow,  you’ll  find  it  no  joking 
matter  to  incarcerate  a citizen  of  the  United  States  — ” 
The  remainder  of  the  sentence  was  lost  in  the  murmurs 
of  applause  which  greeted  him  from  the  audience. 

And  now  the  captain  was  about  to  call  the  witnesses 
in  the  case  against  Randall  Barry,  when  the  cabin  boy 
rose,  and,  in  feeble  accents,  begged  to  have  the  negro 
liberated. 

It  can’t  be,”  replied  the  captain.  ''  You  or  he 
must  first  acknowledge  on  what  plantation  you  lived  in 
Virginia,  and  from  whom  you  got  this  rosary,  found  on 
your  person.” 

**  There’s  no  longer  cause  for  keeping  the  secret,” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


371 


said  the  boy,  as  Mr.  Bigelow  is  committed  for  for- 
gery.'' 

Bigelow  ! Soh,  ho  1 then  his  real  name  is  Bigelow." 

Yes ; he  was  always  called  Bigelow  on  the  plan- 
tation." 

Did  you  know  him  there  ? " 

'^He  did  so,"  exclaimed  Weeks,  again  making  his 
appearance  before  the  bench,  he  did  so  ; no  mistake 
about  that ; many  a good  lickin  I gave  him.  I'll  give 
you  the  whole  history  — " 

Gag  that  fellow,  constable,  gag  the  rascal,"  cried 
the  captain  ; nothing  else  will  stop  his  tongue." 

'"Hold  on  a minute." 

" Silence,  sir,  and  sit  down." 

" See  here,  captain  ; don't  get  put  out  with  me. 
Natty  there's  sick,  and  I want  to  save  him  the  trouble 
of  talking.  Besides,  I should  like  to  have  the  credit  of 
telling  the  hull  story  myself.  Well,  the  amount  of  the 
matter  is,  the  boy  and  the  negro  both  belong  to  Mr. 
Talbot's  plantation,  in  Virginia,  and  ran  away.  I was 
sent  after  them  to  hunt  them  up,  and,  as  if  all  h — had  a 
hand  in  it,  here  they  come  to  this  here  place  of  all  other 
spots  in  creation,  to  blow  the  hull  secret." 

" Heaven,  you  should  have  said,  sir,"  observed  the 
captain. 

" Heaven  or  h — ; call  it  what  you've  a mind  to  ; but 
that  tarnal,  danged  rosary  has  discovered  all." 

" Yes,  sir  ; Heaven  has  made  use  of  your  villany  to 
requite  the  very  person  you  would  have  made  its  victim 
for  her  piety  and  devotion  to  the  Mother  of  God.  Your 
scoundrelism,  and  that  of  your  associate  here,  under  the 
direction  of  Providence,  resulted  in  the  restoration  of  a 
loving  child  to  the  arms  of  a long-lost  parent.  Miss  Lee, 
I congratulate  you  most  sincerely  on  the  happy  issue  of 
this  trial,  and  pray  God  you  may  live  long  — as  you  have 
lived  ever  since  I had  the  happiness  of  knowing  you  — 
the  pride  and  ornament  of  your  sex." 

" God  bless  her  ! God  bless  the  dear  girl  ! " now  re- 
sounded from  all  parts  of  the  court  house,  while  the 


872 


MAHY  LEE,  OE 


lovely  object  of  congratulation  was  herself  shedding 
tears  of  gratitude  to  the  mother  of  orphans  in  the  arms 
of  Kate  Petersham. 

And  now  to  the  prisoner  in  the  dock  — who  demands 
his  committal  ? inquired  the  captain. 

I do/^  responded  Hard  wrinkle  ; I demand  it  in  the 
name  of  the  state.  Clerk,  call  Sergeant  Joseph  Muller. 
Swear  him.^^ 

As  the  latter  came  up  to  the  stand,  Hardwrinkle 
pointed  to  the  prisoner.  ^^Have  you  seen  that  man 
before  ? 

''  I have,  sir.^^ 

What  is  his  name  ? 

Randall  Joseph  Barry. 

Do  you  swear  that  ? said  the  captain. 

I do.'' 

" What  I did  you  see  him  baptized  ? " 

No  ; but  I was  brought  up  within  a stone's  throw 
of  his  father's  house." 

Gentlemen,"  said  the  prisoner,  interrupting  the  wit- 
ness, it's  quite  unnecessary  to  proceed  further  in  this 
examination.  My  name  is  Randall  Joseph  Barry  ; I am 
a rebel  to  the  British  government,  and  the  same  indi- 
vidual for  whose  capture  the  reward  of  three  hundred 
pounds  is  now  offered  by  the  crown.  I have  no  defence 
to  make,  and  I ask  no  favors.  Proceed,  if  it  so  please 
you,  to  make  out  my  committal." 

Fool ! " ejaculated  Else  Curley. 

Young  man,  the  court  does  not  expect  you  to  make 
admissions  likely  to  criminate  yourself,"  said  the  chair- 
man, casting  a reproachful  look  at  the  prisoner. 

He  has  avowed  himself  a rebel,"  said  Hardwrinkle  ; 
he  is  therefore  unbailable,  and  now  I demand  he  be 
committed  forthwith  to  Lifford  jail." 

Have  you  any  thing  to  say  in  your  vindication  ? " 
said  the  captain  ; if  you  have,  we  shall  hear  you 
patiently." 

Nothing,"  promptly  responded  the  young  outlaw. 
I have  deliberately  done  that  which  British  law  de- 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


373 


dares  to  be  a crime,  and  am  now  willing  to  suffer  the 
consequences.  Had  I effected  my  escape  to  a foreign 
land,  as  was  my  purpose, (and  whilst  he  uttered  the 
words,  his  eyes  involuntarily  turned  in  the  direction 
of  Mary  Lee,  the  sole  cause  of  his  detention,)  had  I 
effected  my  escape,  I should  have  been  there  no  less 
an  enemy  and  a rebel  to  the  British  government  than  I 
am  here  on  my  native  soil,  nor  cease  for  one  single  day 
of  my  life  to  compass  its  overthrow. 

Lost ! lost  ! exclaimed  some  one  under  the  bench, 
in  tones  so  heart-rending  that  every  eye  turned  in  the 
direction  of  the  voice.  It  was  poor  Mary  Lee  — she  had 
fainted  in  the  arms  of  Kate  Petersham. 

At  a single  bound  the  prisoner  cleared  the  dock,  and 
stood  beside  her  breathless  form,  as  it  reclined  against 
that  of  her  affectionate  companion. 

Instantly  the  uproar  and  confusion  became  so  great 
that  Hardwrinkle  rose  and  commanded  the  police  to  ad- 
vance and  arrest  the  prisoner. 

Back ! cried  Eandall,  his  dark  eye  flashing  under 
the  excitement  of  the  scene  — back,  slaves  ; I have 
no  intention  to  escape  ; and  he  waved  his  hand  at 
the  police  as  they  rushed  forward  to  secure  him. 

Forward,  fellows  ! What  stops  you,  when  I give 
the  order  ? repeated  Hardwrinkle. 

Hold  ! said  Captain  Petersham.  Not  an  inch 
further.  I command  here.  Constables,  keep  your 
places. 

Mary,^’  whispered  Randall,  stooping  over  her  — 
‘'one  word  — speak  to  me  but  one  word,  and  then  we 
part.^^ 

" Part  ! murmured  the  gentle  girl,  opening  her  eyes, 
and  looking  lovingly  into  his  ; "0  Randall ! Randall  ! 
has  it  come  to  this  ? 

" Hush,  dear  Mary  ; hush  ! whispered  Kate  ; "it 
may  all  be  well  yet  — hush  — you  have  a friend  coming 
you  little  dreamed  of.^' 

" Good  by,  Mary  ; good  by  I We  shall  never  meet 
again, said  Randall,  his  face  quivering  with  emotion, 
32 


374 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


as  he  uttered  the  words.  ''  You  have  at  length  found 
a father,  who  will  love  and  protect  you  as  I would  have 
done.^^ 

0,  stay  ! do  not  leave  me,^^  said  Mary ; the  queen 
will  pardon  you.  She  is  so  good.  0,  no,  no  ; you  shall 
not  leave  me  — never. 

It  cannot  be,^^  said  Eandall  — jny  doom  is  the  gal- 
lows — for  pardon  I shall  never  ask.^^ 

Back  with  ye  I back  with  ye  ! hell  hounds,  give 
way,^'  now  came  ringing  out  in  tones  as  clear  as  a 
trumpet,  from  a stout,  curly-headed  fellow,  at  the  head 
of  some  dozen  others,  cleaving  their  way  through  the 
crowd,  and  smashing  heads  and  bayonets  with  their 
blackthorns  in  their  stormy  passage.  Give  way,  ye 
dogs,  give  way.  To  the  rescue  — corp  an  dhouly  to  the 
rescue. 

''  By  the  Lord  Harry,^^  exclaimed  the  captain,  jump- 
ing to  his  feet,  ''  there  comes  Lanty  Hanlon.  I vow 
to  Heaven  it  is.  Well  done,  my  gallant  fellow,  well 
done  ! 

0 Lanty,  you  never  failed  me  yet,^^  said  Kate, 
proudly.  My  life  on  you  for  a million. 

Now  comes  the  tug  o^  war,^^  said  the  captain,  whis- 
pering to  the  priest. 

Police,  do  your  duty,^^  cried  Hardwrinkle  ; his  face 
no  longer  wearing  its  demure  aspect,  but  fired  with 
passion  at  the  danger  of  losing  his  victim,  after  whose 
blood  he  had  thirsted  so  long.  Do  your  duty  ! I com- 
mand you.^^ 

For  a moment  the  outlaw  looked  round  the  court, 
as  if  to  calculate  his  chances  of  escape  — in  the  next, 
he  was  driven  forward  in  the  centre  of  a group  towards 
the  door. 

Shoot  them  down  I vociferated  Hardwrinkle,  ges- 
ticulating furiously  — shoot  down  the  rebel  and  his 
rescuers. 

Hold  ! hold  ! commanded  the  chairman,  in  a voice 
of  thunder.  '‘The  first  man  that  fires  dies;  he^s  not 
yet  committed — hold  your  fire.^^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


375 


By  this  time  Lanty  and  his  men  had  gained  the  side 
of  the  dock  where  Else  Curley  stood,  her  arms  folded  as 
usual,  and  her  keen,  deep-sunken  eye  fixed  on  Hard- 
wrinkle.  As  they  did,  the  whole  detachment  of  police 
rushed  from  the  door,  despite  the  captain^s  orders,  and 
charged  the  rioters  with  fixed  bayonets. 

Surrender  the  prisoner,  or  we  fire,^^  cried  the  lieu- 
tenant. **  I order  you  to  surrender,  in  the  queen^s  name, 
instantly.’^ 

Cudn^t  ye  wait  till  th^  morrow  ? said  Lanty,  sneer- 
ingly. 

I again  command  you  to  surrender  the  prisoner,^ ^ 
repeated  the  officer. 

But  hardly  had  the  words  escaped  his  lips  when  a 
blow  from  behind  felled  him  to  the  ground,  and  then  the 
riot  commenced  in  good  earnest. 

Down  with  the  Sassenach  dogs  ! shouted  Lanty, 
making  his  staff  play  round  him  in  true  Celtic  fashion. 

Down  with  them  — corp  au  dhoul  — drive  them  before 
ye.'' 

Else  Curley,  at  this  moment,  by  some  chance  or  other, 
succeeded  in  forcing  her  way  in  amongst  the  combatants, 
and  thrusting  the  silver-mounted  pistol  she  carried  into 
Kandall's  breast,  drew  forth,  herself,  the  old  Spanish 
dagger,  which  the  reader  saw  once  before  at  her  cabin 
on  the  Cairn,  and  waved  it  in  her  brown  skeleton  hand 
high  over  the  heads  of  the  rioters.  Come  on  ! " she 
cried  ; the  young  lion  is  now  with  his  dam,  and  see 
who'll  dar  injure  a hair  of  his  head.  Come  on  ! let  the 
enemy  of  my  house  and  home  come  on,  and  see  how 
soon  this  good  steel  'll  drink  his  heart's  blood.  Away 
with  him  to  the  door,  there,  and  balk  the  tiger  of  his 
prey  — away  with  him,  my  hearties." 

Hard  wrinkle  now  jumped  from  the  bench,  and  calling 
on  the  police  to  stab  the  prisoner  and  his  rescuers,  forced 
his  way  also  in  amongst  the  rioters,  his  eyes  flashing  fire 
and  his  face  flushed  with  intense  passion.  At  this  mo- 
ment Randall  Barry,  after  breaking  bayonet  after  bayo- 
net with  the  pistol  which  he  held  still  undischarged  in 


376 


MAKY  LEE,  OR 


his  hand,  turned  to  defend  himself  from  those  in  the  rear, 
and  met  Hardwrinkle  face  to  face. 

Eebel ! cried  the  latter,  snatching  a carabine  from  the 
next  constable — ''  rebel,  traitor,  enemy  of  your  religion 
and  your  country,  take  now  the  punishment  you  de- 
serve ; and  as  he  spoke  he  attempted  to  pull  the 
trigger,  but  his  hands  trembled  so  in  the  fury  of  his 
passion  that  he  missed  the  spring.  Next  instant  Else 
Curley^s  long,  bony  fingers  had  grasped  him  by  the 
throat,  and  he  fell  backwards  on  the  flags  of  the  court 
house,  the  musket  exploding  as  it  reached  the  floor. 

Lanty  and  his  comrades  had  now  fought  their  way 
bravely  on,  step  by  step,  Randall  defending  himself  with 
his  single  arm  against  the  repeated  assaults  of  the  con- 
stables, and  still  reserving  his  fire,  as  if  for  a last  emer- 
gency. It  soon  came. 

They  had  succeeded,  indeed,  in  driving  the  police  be- 
fore them  out  through  the  court  house  door  ; but  here 
the  danger  and  difficulty  increased,  from  the  fact  that 
once  beyond  the  threshold.  Captain  Petersham^s  author- 
ity ceased,  as  presiding  magistrate,  and  Hardwrinkle  was 
at  liberty  to  give  what  orders  he  pleased,  if  he  only  as- 
sumed the  responsibility.  How  he  extricated  himself 
from  the  hands  of  Else  Curley  ^twould  be  impossible  to 
say  ; but  certain  it  is,  that,  much  to  the  surprise  of  the 
beholders,  he  was  suddenly  seen  jumping  from  a window 
of  the  building  down  on  the  low  wall  enclosing  the  yard, 
like  one  demented. 

Fire  I he  cried,  as  he  alighted  and  glanced  at  the 
preparations  made  for  Barry^s  escape  — his  quick  eye 
detecting  in  an  instant  the  reason  of  Moll  Pitcher  being 
kept  there  standing  at  the  gate.  Fire  ! he  repeated  ; 
on  your  lives  let  not  the  prisoner  escape  — fire  I 
But  he  had  come  too  late  ; Randall  had  already  gained 
the  outside  of  the  yard,  borne  on  by  his  trusty  defend- 
ers, foremost  amongst  whom  fought  Lanty,  his  head  and 
arms  bleeding  profusely  from  bayonet  wounds,  whilst  Ran- 
dalPs  own  were  hardly  in  a better  condition. 

Hardwrinkle  saw  there  was  but  one  chance  remaining, 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


377 


namely,  to  intercept  the  fugitive  and  detain  him  till  the 
police  could  come  up  and  arrest  him  ; and  making  all 
possible  speed  to  where  his  horse  stood  in  the  hands 
of  his  groom,  he  mounted  and  dashed  past  the  gate  in 
order  to  head  the  prisoner  off. 

Randall,  however,  was  already  in  the  saddle.  He  had 
sprung  to  it  by  the  strength  of  his  single  arm,  and 
instantly  gathering  up  the  reins,  gave  Moll  the  word. 
The  splendid  creature,  knowing  well  that  something 
more  than  usual  was  expected  of  her,  reared  for  an 
instant,  and  then  shot  forward  like  an  arrow,  making  the 
fire  fly  from  the  pavement. 

Glorious  ! cried  Lanty  ; now  for  it ! If  horse- 
flesh can  save  ye,  Randall  Barry,  it^s  Moll  Pitcher.^^ 

Shoot  him  down  ! shoot  him  down  ! vociferated 
Hardwrinkle,  as  he  rode  on  before  the  fugitive  with  the 
intention  of  wheeling  round  and  intercepting  him  in  his 
flight. 

The  words  were  hardly  spoken  when  three  or  four 
shots  came  in  quick  succession.  They  did  no  mischief, 
however,  — one  of  them  sliglitly.  grazing  Barry^s  cheek, 
while  the  others  went  wide  of  their  mark. 

The  crowd  now  rushed  through  the  gate  and  over  the 
wall  in  wild  confusion  ; some  throwing  stones  at  the  po- 
lice, and  others  venting  curses  loud  and  deep  against 
Hardwrinkle  and  his  Sassenach  crew. 

Randall  saw,  as  Hardwrinkle  wheeled  his  horse  to  in- 
tercept him,  that  if  he  happened  to  be  detained  but  a 
second,  he  should,  in  all  probability,  fall  by  a bullet  from 
the  police,  before  he  could  get  out  of  musket  range,  and 
so,  drawing  the  pistol  from  his  breast,  he  let  the  reins 
drop  on  his  horse^s  neck,  and  prepared  himself  for  the 
worst.  He  had  hardly  done  so  when  Hardwrinkle  was 
up  within  ten  yards  of  him.  ^'Keep  ofi*l  keep  off*!^' 
cried  Randall,  or  I flre.^^ 

But  his  antagonist  took  no  notice  of  the  warning,  and 
as  he  rushed  on  in  the  blindness  of  his  fury,  Randall 
dropped  the  muzzle  of  his  pistol,  and  shot  his  horse 
32* 


378 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


through  the  head.  ''There,  take  your  life,^^  he  cried; 
" I shall  never  have  a dastard^s  blood  on  my  hands. 

The  horse  dropped  instantly,  the  ball  passing  through 
his  brain. 

And  then  rose  a cheer  wild  and  loud,  that  made  the 
very  heavens  ring  again,  as  Eandall  was  seen  flying  up 
the  hill  on  Moll  Pitcher,  clear  of  all  danger,  his  long 
black  hair  floating  on  the  breeze,  and  his  broken  arm  still 
visible  in  the  sling. 

Whilst  the  crowd  stood  cheering  and  gazing  after  the 
young  outlaw.  Else  Curley,  followed  by  several  of  the 
constables,  hurried  to  the  spot  where  Hardwrinkle  had 
fallen.  Else  was  first  on  the  ground.  " Hah  ! she 
cried,  as  if  about  to  utter  some  malediction,  but  suddenly 
stopped,  and  bent  down  to  gaze  on  the  face  of  the  fallen 
man. 

" What^s  the  matter  ? — is  he  hurt  ? demanded  the 
constables. 

" Ay,  he^s  liurt,^^  responded  Else,  dryly. 

" He  don^t  move  — how^s  that  ? 

" He^s  dead  ! 

" The  horse,  you  mean.^V 

" Horse  and  rider  — they^re  both  dead.^^ 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


379 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Weeks  escapes  in  the  Riot.  — Is  pursued  by  a Constable,  — 
Climbs  over  a Wall,  leaving  his  Coat-tail  behind  him  in 
the  Constable's  Hands,  and  finally  disappears.  — Else 
takes  her  Leav^e,  and  retires  to  Benraven  Mountain,  there 
to  pass  the  Remainder  of  her  Life.  — Lanty  Hanlon,  in 
the  Dress  of  an  old  Woman,  winds  up  the  Story.  — 
Postscript,  which  is  characteristic  of  the  Author  of  the 
Preface,  terminates  the  Story  in  Manner  similar  to  that 
in  which  it  began. 

On  examination,  it  was  found  that  the  unfortunate  man 
had  carried  a small  dirk  or  stiletto  in  the  breast  pocket 
of  his  coat,  which,  having  been  displaced  by  the  fall, 
was  driven  by  the  crushing  weight  of  the  horse  fairly 
through  his  heart — the  animal  dropping  so  suddenly  as 
to  leave  him  no  time  to  extricate  his  feet  from  the 
stirrups. 

Captain  Petersham  and  his  friends,  on  hearing  the 
melancholy  intelligence,  hastened  to  the  scene  of  the 
disaster,  and  there  found  the  body  stretched  on  the  road, 
and  surrounded  by  a gaping  and  wondering  crowd. 

Dead  ? inquired  the  captain. 

Yes,  3^our  honor,’^  replied  a policeman,  touching  his 
cap  ; ‘^he^s  dead  — this  dagger  passed  straight  through 
his  heart ; I drew  it  out  this  moment. 

Shocking  I exclaimed  the  priest,  stooping  and  lay- 
ing his  hand  on  the  forehead  of  the  corpse  ; most 
shocking  ! Gone  to  meet  his  God  without  a moment^s 
preparation.^^ 

''  And  in  the  very  flush  of  his  guilt, added  the  cap- 
tain, gazing  at  the  dead  body.  ''The  victim  of  his  own 
inveterate  prejudices  and  his  love  of  gold,  for  Pm  very 
much  inclined  to  think  the  fear  of  losing  his  share  of  the 
reward  had  more  to  do  in  driving  him  to  this  last  act  of 
desperation  than  his  hatred  of  the  young  man.  Hand 


380 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


me  the  dagger.  Kate,  you  and  Mary  had  better  leave 
here  at  once,^^  he  continued,  turning  to  his  sister  ; we 
shall  call  for  you  at  Greenmount.^^ 

And  bring  Father  Brennan  with  you,^^  said  Kate  ; 
don^t  forget  that.^^ 

''  No  — but  look  you  here,  madcap  ; take  care  not  to 
present  Mary  suddenly  to  Mr.  Guirkie,  as  he  may  lose 
his  senses  altogether  ; be  prudent. 

As  the  captain  took  the  dagger  in  his  hand  to  examine 
it,  Eoger  O^Shaughnessy,  who  was  standing  by,  touched 
him  on  the  arm,  and  whispered  in  his  ear,  That^s  Else 
Curley^s,  yer  honor.^^ 

This  dagger  ! 

''  Yes,  sir.^^ 

Else  Curley^s  ! — you  must  make  a mistake,  Eoger.^^ 

''  No,  sir,  that’s  her  old  Spanish  dagger.  I’d  know  it 
amongst  a thousand.” 

'' But  how  could  it  come  into  Mr*  Hardwrinkle’s  pos- 
session ? ” 

''  Ahem  I I don’t  know  that,  yer  honor  ; unless,  whin 
he  was  strugglin  with  her  on  the  floor  of  the  court  house, 
he  might  have  wrested  it  from  her  hands.” 

That  accounts  for  it,  then,”  said  the  priest.  I saw 
Else  waving  a dagger  after  the  riot  commenced.” 

Humph  ! then  he  died  by  his  enemy’s  weapon,  though 
not  by  his  enemy’s  hand  — curious  enough,  eh  ! ” 

Yes ; and  I’m  very  happy  to  think  the  poor  old 
woman,  after  her  long  thirty  years  of  deadly  enmity  to 
the  unfortunate  man,  is  still  guiltless  of  his  death.” 

She’s  a desperate  woman.  Father  Brennan  — desper- 
ate.” 

True,  she  was  always  of  a wild,  ungovernable  tem- 
per ; but  yet  not  half  so  bad  as  she  seemed.  Her  care 
and  love  of  Mary  Lee,  the  once  houseless  and  homeless 
orphan,  and  her  fidelity  to  Eandall  Barry,  in  requital  for 
his  uncle’s  kindness  at  the  siege  of  Madeira,  are  enough 
to  redeem  worse  women  than  Else  Curley.” 

But  where  is  she  ? ” inquired  the  captain,  looking 
round. 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


381 


Where  is  she,  indeed  ! — now  that  I think  of  it/^ 

There  she  is/^  replied  some  one  in  the  crowd. 
There,  beyont,  yer  honor,  settin  on  that  stone,  by  the 
ditch,  with  the  ould  goat  beside  her.^^ 

As  the  captain,  followed  by  the  priest  and  Dr.  Hen- 
shaw,  approached  the  old  woman,  she  seemed  absorbed 
in  deep  thought ; her  head  bent,  and  her  folded  arms 
resting  on  her  knees. 

Else  ! said  the  captain,  touching  her  shoulder,  to 
make  her  aware  of  his  presence.  '^Else  Curley  ! 

Humph ! ejaculated  the  old  woman,  looking  up 
slowly.  What^s  the  matter  ? ’’ 

**  Come  — you  must  go  with  us  to  Castle  Gregory. 
'^For  what? 

We  want  to  see  you  there. 

Who  wants  to  see  me  — you  ? 

All  of  us.  Mary  Lee,  in  particular,  before  she 
leaves.  Besides,  I should  like  to  make  some  better  pro- 
vision for  your  old  days,  than  the  cabin  on  the  Cairn 
affords. 

No,  no,’^  said  Else,  rising  and  folding  her  gray  cloak 
round  her  emaciated  shoulders,  — no  — ITl  go  to  see 
my  foster-child  afore  she  leaves  Fanid  ; but  ITl  niver  quit 
the  cabin  till  my  bones  are  carried  up  to  be  laid  with  my 
sister^s,  in  Massmount  churchyard.  And  that  wonH  be 
long,  either  ; for  now,  since  the  one  I loved  best  has 
found  a father,  and  him  I hated  most  a grave,  I have 
nothing  in  this  world  to  live  for.  In  regard  to  the  ould 
cabin,  it's  but  a dissolit  spot  to  look  at,  captain,  but  it's 
all  the  world  to  me.  I lived  in  it  so  long,  and  ivry  rock 
and  blade  of  heather  about  it  got  so  familiar  to  my  eyes, 
that  if  ye  put  me  in  a palace,  I'd  steal  back  to  it  again." 

**  But,  Else,  remember  you're  old,"  remonstrated  the 
captain,  **  and  will  need  some  one  to  take  care  of  you." 

Ay,  ay,  take  care  of  me  ! " she  said,  with  a melan- 
choly smile.  ''  Care'd  kill  me  afore  my  time,  captain, 
I'm  so  unused  to  it.  No,  no  ; as  I lived  alone,  I'll 
die  alone." 

But  what  of  your  soul,  Else  ? " said  the  priest. 


382 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


Ah  ! she  replied,  '^the  weight  that  lay  upon  it  for 
thirty  years  is  at  last  removed  — and  now  I begin  to  feel 
life  in  it  again 

Thank  God,  you’re  guiltless  of  the  death  by  which 
that  heavy  load  was  removed,  at  all  events.” 

Amen,”  said  Else  ; amen.  Three  times  did  Mary 
Lee  stand  atween  him  and  my  vengeance,  and  now,  for 
the  fourth,  the  thought  of  her  kneelin  to  me  at  the  light- 
house with  tears  in  her  eyes,  to  persuade  me  against  his 
murder,  held  back  my  hand  as  I raised  it  to  plunge  the 
dagger  in  his  heart.  But  he’s  dead  now,  and  so  is  my 
anger — fare  ye  well ! fare  ye  well ! ” and  the  old  solitary 
turned  her  steps  in  the  direction  of  Araheera  Head, 
followed  closely  by  her  faithful  companion,  bleating  and 
trotting  after  her,  to  her  mountain  home. 

There  she  goes,  poor  old  soul,”  said  the  captain, 
gazing  after  her,  and  leaning  his  hand  on  the  priest’s 
shoulder  as  he  spoke  ; I fear  her  death,  like  her  life, 
will  be  miserable.” 

No,  no  ; don’t  fear,”  said  the  priest : I’ll  take  care 
of  her.” 

God  bless  you  ! and  for  her  temporal  comfort  I’ll 
look  to  that  myself.” 

Humph  ! I see  you  begin  to  take  an  interest  in  the 
old  woman.” 

Why  not?  who  could  help  it,  after  those  proofs  of 
fidelity  and  attachment  to  Mary  Lee  ? ” 

0,  poor  Else  ! the  creature’s  as  true  as  steel.  You 
see  how  she  clung  by  Randall  Barry,  too,  and  protected 
him  even  at  the  imminent  hazard  of  her  life.  But,  by  the 
by,  where  is  Lanty  all  this  time  — eh  ? ” 

Lanty ! 0,  never  mind  him ; he’ll  take  care  of 

himself.” 

The  police  may  have  got  hold  of  him  — the  unfortu- 
nate fellow  ! ” 

Of  Lanty  Hanlon  ! — no,  sir  ; there’s  but  little^'danger 
of  that.  He’ll  turn  up  somewhere,  depend  on  it,  before 
the  week’s  out.  Come,  we  must  follow  the  ladies  to 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


383 


Greenmount,  and  see  how  Uncle  Jerry  behaves  after  his 
discovery  of  Mary  Lee/^ 

He^ll  go  crazy,  I fear,  when  he  sees  her/^ 

Shouldn’t  wonder  in  the  least.  I told  Kate,  however, 
to  prepare  him  for  the  meeting.  But  come  — I have 
already  given  directions  for  the  removal  of  the  body  ; ” 
and  the  speaker,  taking  Father  John’s  arm,  turned  towards 
Greenmount,  leaving  Dr.  Henshaw  and  the  light-keeper 
to  follow  after. 

They  had  gone  but  a short  distance,  however,  when 
they  overtook  a woman  in  a blue  cloak  and  ruffled  cap, 
(both  looking  rather  worse  for  the  wear,)  and  to  judge 
from  the  stoop  of  her  shoulders  and  a distressing  cough, 
evidently  very  old  and  sickly. 

''  Hilloa  1 ” cried  the  captain,  in  a bantering  tone,  as  he 
passed  her.  What  the  mischief  brings  such  an  old  hag 
as  you  here  among  blood  and  bullets  ? ” 

Me  1 ” replied  the  crone.  ''  Ugh,  hugh,  captain, 
dear,  it’s  no  wondher  ye  say  it,  for  this  cough’s  killing 
me.  I’m  — ugh  ! — ugh  ! — I’m  racked  to  death’s  doore 
with  it ! ” 

Then  why  didn’t  you  stay  at  home  ? ” 

Ay,  ay,  dear  ; true  enough,  captain  ; but  — ngh, 
ugh  — it’s  an  ould  sayin,  and  a true  one  — The  ould 
fool’s  the  greatest  of  all  fools.” 

Did  you  see  Lanty  Hanlon  any  where  about  here, 
lately  ? ” inquired  the  priest. 

Is  it  me  — ugh  ! ugh  ! ” 

Ay,  you,”  repeated  the  captain,  half  provoked  at  the 
delay. 

Ugh,  ugh  I 0 dear,  I can’t  spake  a word  with  this 
terrible  cough  ; and  captain,  dear,  it’s  always  wuss  about 
sunset.” 

Confound  you  and  your  cough  together  I Come, 
Father  John,  let  us  hasten  on  to  Greenmount.” 

If  it’s  Lanty  Hanlon  ye  mane,”  said  the  old  woman, 
at  last,  I didn’t  see  him  since  ye  seen  him  yourself, 
captain  ; ” and  the  speaker  uttered  a sort  of  low  chuckle, 
as  if  she  saw  something  amusing  in  the  inquiry. 


384 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


**  What^s  the  matter,  now,  old  dame  ? what  do  you 
laugh  at  ? 

To  hear  ye  inquirin  for  Lanty  Hanlon  ; and  the 
speaker’s  voice  changed  all  of  a sudden. 

What ! hilloa  ! whom  have  we  got  here,  eh  ? ” and 
the  captain  drew  back  the  hood  of  her  cloak.  ''Lanty 
himself!  by  George,  it  is  ! Why,  you  unfortunate 
vagabond,  don’t  you  — ” 

" Whist,  whist  I the  constable’s  beside  ye,  there. 
Don’t  miiition  my  name  for  yer  life.  Eemimber  the 
warrint  ye  sent  afther  me  for  taking  the  loan  of  Miss 
Hardwrinkle.” 

"I  do  — and  I tell  you  now,  Lanty,  what  you  may 
rest  assured  of.” 

" Well,  sir  ? ” 

''That  you’ll  be  hung  if  you  stay  here  — you  will, 
sir.  By  the  Lord  Harry  you  will.” 

" Me  ! ” 

" Ay,  you,  sir  I ” 

" Hung  I ” 

" Yes,  sir  ; hung  by  the  neck.” 

" That  rope’s  not  made  yit,  captain,  dear.  No,  no,  my 
pride  niver  carried  me  that  high.” 

" Quit  the  country,  sir  ; quit  the  country  — that’s  my 
advice  to  you  — and  quit  it  immediately,  too,  for  I can 
save  you  no  longer.” 

" Cudn’t  ye  hould  out  for  another  year,  captain  ? ” 

" No,  sir  ; nor  for  another  week,  either.  Are  you  not 
aware  that  the  abduction  of  Miss  Hardwrinkle  is  a 
transportable  offence  ? But  why  another  year,  pray?” 

" Well,  there’s  a sort  of  a sacret  in  that,”  responded 
Lanty,  wiping  the  blood  from  his  face. 

" And  what’s  the  secret  ? ” 

" Why,  then,  it  isn’t  much  to  spake  of,  captain,  only 
in  regard  of  a bit  of  a girl  up  here,  that  I had  a kind  of 
a notion  of,  and  she  tells  me  she’s  not  just  to  say  ready, 
yit.” 

" Ho,  ho!  that’s  it — well,  never  mind.  I’ll  make  her 
ready.  Who  is  she  ? ” 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


385 


A girl  of  the  Kellys  of  Minadreen,  sir/^ 

A daughter  of  one  of  my  tenants  — very  well ; send 
her  up  to  Castle  Gregory  to-morrow  or  next  day  — 1^11 
give  her  her  outfit.  Send  her  up,  and  prepare  yourself 
to  leave,  for  youh'e  not  safe  here  an  hour.^^ 

Captain, said  a policeman,  touching  his  cap,  Lanty 
Hanlon,  I fear,  has  escaped.^' 

What  ? fled  I 

''  Yes,  sir.  We  have  searched  every  where,  and  can’t 
find  him.” 

Shouldn’t  doubt  it,  sir,  in  the  least,”  replied  the 
captain.  By  the  Lord  Harry,  sir,  you  should  — every 
man  of  you  — be  drummed  out  for  a set  of  poltroons. 
Ten  constables,  and  couldn^t  make  a single  arrest  I I shall 
see  to  it,  sir.  You  have  the  Yankee  still  in  custody,  I 
trust.” 

No,  sir  ; he  has  escaped  also.” 

Escaped  I ” 

Yes,  sir ; he  jumped  the  wall,  and  fled  in  the  con- 
fusion of  the  moment.” 

And  could  nobody  catch  him,  sir  ? ” 

'^Not  on  foot,  sir,  for  he  ran  like  a greyhound,  his  long 
hair  floating  back  on  the  breeze.  I pursued  him  myself 
for  nearly  a mile,  but  found  it  was  of  no  use,  and  gave  it 
up  as  a bad  job.  Once  I thought  I had  him,  as  he 
scrambled  up  a stone  fence.  I seized  him  by  his  coat 
tail,  but  he  left  the  tail  behind  him,  and  disappeared.” 

So  that’s  all  that  remains  of  him,”  said  the  captain, 
looking  at  the  piece  of  gray  broadcloth  in  the  policeman’s 
hand. 

''  That’s  all,  sir,”  replied  the  constable,  holding  up  the 
skirt  for  inspection. 

Well,  it’s  of  no  consequence  ; let  him  go.  He  has 
seen  enough  of  Ireland,  I suspect.  Father  Brennan,  with- 
out visiting  our  jails  — eh  ? don’t  you  think  so  ? ” 

''  He’s  not  the  only  one,”  said  Dr,  Henshaw,  coming 
up  behind,  has  seen  enough  of  Ireland.  My  own 
expaireance  of  the  country  is  vary  short,  but  I think  I’ve 
33 


386 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


seen  plenty  to  know  it^s  rather  a hard  place  for  strangers 
who  are  fond  of  their  comforts/^ 

You  must  matriculate,  doctor, said  Father  John, 
good-humoredly. 

Matriculate  ! 

''  Certainly.  And  after  that  you^ll  feel  quite  at  home.^^ 

Humph  ! ejaculated  the  doctor.  **  My  matricula- 
tion then  — as  you  call  it  — is  ended,  for  I leave  to- 
morrow. 

To-morrow  ! repeated  the  captain  ; nonsense  ! 
By  the  Lord  Harry,  my  dear  fellow,  you^ll  do  no  such 
thing.^^ 

To-morrow,  sir,  at  daybreak  ; you  may  rest  assured 
of  it.^^ 

What ! and  Mary  Lee  to  be  married  to-night,  and 
Uncle  Jerry  to  dance  at  the  wedding  ! you  musnft  think 
of  it.^^ 

'^IVe  made  up  my  mind,  captain. 

But  Kate  — you  know  Kate  has  an  apology  to  make 
about  that  quarrel  youVe  had.  She^ll  never  forgive  you 
if  you  donft  come  with  us  to  Castle  Gregory. 

No,  sir;  IVe  been  once  at  Castle  Gregory,  and  that 
I think  is  quite  enough  for  me.  I thank  you,  captain, 
however,  for  your  proffered  hospeetality.^^ 

But,  my  dear  sir,^^  urged  the  captain,  I should  feel 
very  sorry  to  have  you  leave  with  bad  impressions  of  the 
country. 

''  Humph  ! said  the  doctor,  in  reply,  I^m  vary 
much  inclined  to  think,  if  I remained  longer,  they  would 
grow  worse/^ 

Worse ! 

Ay,  sir,  worse.  Here’s  abduction,  robbery,  forgery, 
riot,  and  murder,  all  in  a single  week.  Good  Heavens ! 
Sir,  there’s  not  such  another  country  on  the  face  of  the 
globe,  and  what  makes  its  condition  the  more  deplorable 
is,  that  its  religion  is  no  longer  able  to  redeem  it.” 

**  Its  religion  ! ” said  the  priest. 

''Yes,  sir;  there’s  not  even  the  ghost  of  your  old 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


387 


Katholeecity  remaining.  No,  sir ; what^s  left  is  but 
syllabub  and  water  gruel. 

Fm  sorry  you  think  so.^^ 

''  And  so  am  I too,  sir.  But  so  it  is  — between  your 
deevil  try  and  your  Katholeecity,  I have  had  enough  of 
Ireland.  Good  by,  gentlemen,  good  by ! and  the  doc- 
tor, having  taken  his  leave  of  the  party,  thrust  his  thumbs 
into  the  arm-holes  of  his  waistcoat,  and  wended  his  way 
slowly  to  the  village  inn. 


388 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


POSTSCRIPT. 

Dear  Reader  : We  have  carried  you  through  a long, 
and,  perhaps,  in  the  main,  a weary,  tedious  narration. 
At  length,  however,  it  has  come  to  a close,  and  such  as  it 
is,  you  have  it ; or,  to  borrow  the  words  of  Lord  Byron,  — 

What  is  writ  is  writ ; 

Would  it  were  worthier ! but  I am  not  now 

What  I have  been  — and  my  visions  flit 

Less  palpably  before  me  — and  the  glow 

Which  in  my  spirit  dwelt  is  fluttering,  faint,  and  low. 


SECOND  POSTSCRIPT. 

The  above  is  the  story  of  Mary  Lee,  as  it  came  into 
our  hands. 

Mr.  Pinkie,  it  seems,  had  not  finished  it  when  he  left 
Ireland,  and  was  never  afterwards  able,  on  account  of  the 
rheumatism,  to  finish  it  here.  We  suppose  this  must 
have  been  the  way  of  it.  Whether  he  actually  intended 
to  make  the  end  of  Childe  Harold  the  end  of  Mary  Lee 
also,  iPs  of  course  now  very  difficult  to  tell  — though, 
indeed,  for  ourselves,  we  must  confess  we  have  a strong 
inclination  to  think  in  the  affirmative,  especially  as,  being 
brought  up  together,  we  remember  well  many  personal 
proofs  of  his  short  and  snappy  disposition.  But  be  that 
as  it  may,  ^tis  evident  the  tale  wants  another  joint,  and 
so,  being  appointed  his  legatee,  we  have  considered  it  no 
more  than  our  duty  to  make  up  for  the  deficiency  the  best 
way  we  can.  With  that  end  in  view,  we  wrote  to  a faithful 
correspondent  at  Rosnakill  for  information  respecting  the 
fate  of  some  of  the  principal  actors  in  the  drama,  and 
the  following  is  the  result : — 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IKELAND. 


389 


''  In  reply  to  your  favor  of  recent  date,  I have  the 
pleasure  to  acquaint  you  with  the  following  facts.  They 
have  been  obtained  after  very  considerable  trouble  and 
inquiry,  and  therefore  I shall  expect  you  to  put  them  to 
my  credit  in  the  old  account. 

First,  then,  it  seems  the  meeting  between  Mr.  Guirkie 
and  Mary  Lee  was  very  affecting  — so  much  so,  indeed, 
that  the  captain,  stout-hearted  as  he  is,  after  rubbing  up 
his  grizzly  hair  two  or  three  times  in  quick  succession, 
and  plucking  down  his  waistcoat  as  many  more,  was  final- 
ly obliged  to  turn  his  face  to  the  window  and  whistle 
against  the  glass.  Uncle  Jerry^s  joy  knew  no  bounds ; 
he  sat  her  on  his  knee,  and  smoothed  down  her  hair,  and 
looked  up  in  her  face,  and  wept,  and  vowed  she  was  the 
very  picture  of  her  that  was  gone.  Mrs.  Motherly,  poor 
woman,  is  said  to  have  entered  the  parlor  just  at  that  time 
with  her  master^s  leggings,  to  button  them  on,  but  see- 
ing what  she  did  see,  turned  short  on  her  step,  and  draw- 
ing the  door  after 'her  with  a bang,  quit  the  house  instant- 
ly, and  was  never  heard  of  since.  For  the  last  fact  I 
cannot  vouch  exactly,  my  own  impression  being  that  she 
did  return  once  more,  and  even  had  a pension  granted  her 
by  Mr.  Guirkie  for  her  faithful  and  matronly  services. 

As  you  are  already  aware,  the  captain  entertained  the 
party  that  night  at  Castle  Gregory,  and,  so  far  as  I can 
learn,  a merry  night  they  had  of  it.  Mary  Lee  and  Ean- 
dall  Barry  were  married,  of  course,  by  the  good  Father 
Brennan  ; and  Uncle  Jerry,  curious  enough,  is  reported 
to  have  given  away  the  bride.  It  is  further  asserted, 
and  on  excellent  authority  too,  that  the  same  gentleman, 
after  slipping  a check  on  the  Bank  of  Londonderry  for 
two  thousand  pounds  into  Mary^s  hand  as  a marriage 
portion,  instantly  called  on  Kate  to  play  the  ' Sailor^s 
Hornpipe,^  and  danced  with  his  hands  on  his  sides  till  he 
fell  back  on  the  sofa,  and  there  actually  went  to  sleep  from 
sheer  exhaustion. 

Ten  days  after  the  wedding,  the  captain^s  yacht  was 
seen  weighing  anchor  at  Ballymastocker,  and  slowly  mov- 
ing up  to  the  landing  place  under  the  castle.  Presently 
33* 


890 


MARY  LEE,  OR 


a party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  issued  from  the  vestibule 
of  the  old  mansion^  and  crossing  the  lawn,  descended  the 
bank  of  the  rabbit  warren,  and  stepped  aboard.  The 
party  consisted  of  the  captain  and  Kate,  Eandall  and 
Mrs.  Barry,  Mr.  Lee,  Mr.  Guirkie,  and  Father  Brennan. 
After  a few  minutes^  absence,  the  latter  came  ashore,  and 
waving  his  hat  in  adieu,  the  little  Water  Hen  moved  off 
gently  from  the  wharf.  She  had  not  cleared  it  a cablets 
length,  however,  when  a brown  water  spaniel,  followed 
by  a tall  old  gray-haired  man,  in  a long-skirted  coat,  was 
seen  running  down  to  the  beach.  The  old  man  kept  wav- 
ing his  hand  as  he  hobbled  along  ; but  the  dog,  who  had 
reached  the  shore  before  him,  sprang  into  the  water  and 
made  for  the  little  vessel,  howling  most  piteously  as  he 
buffeted  the  waves.  The  yacht  hqve  to  for  a moment,  the 
dog  was  lifted  aboard,  and  then  the  old  man,  apparently 
satisfied  with  what  had  taken  place,  fell  on  his  knees,  and 
with  uplifted  hands,  seemed  to  pray  fervently  for  a 
happy  voyage.  ^ 

Next  day  the  Water  Hen  returned,  but  none  of  the 
party  was  seen  to  step  ashore  but  Kate  and  the  captain. 
Where  the  others  went  to,  no  one  here  can  tell.  It  is 
generally  surmised,  however,  that  the  United  States  was 
their  destination,  and  that  Lanty  Hanlon  and  his  winsome 
wife,  Mary  Kelly  of  the  black  hair,  went  out  with  them, 
having  been  snugly  ensconced  under  the  Water  Hen^s 
hatches  before  she  weighed  anchor  on  the  evening  of  her 
departure  from  Castle  Gregory. 

Roger  O’Shaughnessy,  now  too  infirm  to  venture  on 
so  long  a voyage,  remains  at  the  castle  at  his  old  occupa- 
tion. Once  or  twice  a week  he  burnishes  up  the  old  sil- 
ver salver  as  usual,  and  tells  how  often  it  has  served  wine 
to  the  lords  and  ladies  at  Castle  Talbot. 

And  Kate  Petersham  too  — I mustn’t  forget  her. 
She  is  now,  I am  happy  to  tell  you,  a fervent  Catholic,  de- 
voted to  her  religion,  and  a model  of  piety  to  the  whole 
parish.  But  you  must  not  conclude  from  all  this,  that 
she  has  changed  in  other  respects.  Not  at  all.  She 
practises  her  religion  faithfully  at  the  altar  and  in  the 


THE  YANKEE  IN  IRELAND. 


891 


closet ; but  beyond  this,  she  is  the  same  reckless,  light- 
hearted being  she  ever  was,  and  ready  at  any  moment  to 
cruise  in  the  Water  Hen,  or  ride  a steeple  chase  on  Moll 
Pitcher,  with  the  best  blood  in  the  county.  She  has  been 
trying  hard  to  bring  the  captain  over  to  the  church  too, 
people  say.  But  Pm  afraid  she^ll  hardly  succeed — at 
least  for  the  present.  Indeed,  the  captain  said  as  much 
to  myself,  swearing  at  the  same  time  he  liked  the  religion 
well  enough,  but  by  his  Lord  Harry,  he  never  could  get 
over  the  confession.  ^ I offered  to  compromise  the  mat- 
ter/ he  added,  ‘ but  Father  John  wouldn^t  listen  to  it. 
He  insisted  on  the  confession  as  a necessary  condition, 
and  I insisted,  on  the  other  side,  to  have  that  clause  left 
out.  So  there  rests  the  whole  difficulty.^ 

''With  respect  to  Ephraim  C.  B.  Weeks,  he  made  his 
way  to  Kathmelton  bareheaded,  and  with  the  remaining 
skirt  of  his  coat  tucked  under,  to  give  it  the  appearance 
of  a jacket.  Once  more  only  was  he  seen,  and  then  at 
the  Liverpool  packet  office  in  Derry.  A friend  of  mine, 
who  happened  to  be  present  at  the  time,  assures  me  he 
did  nothing  but  curse  Ireland  and  all  the  darned  Irish  in 
it,  from  the  time  he  entered  the  office  till  he  left  it. 
He  swore  you  couldn^t  find  such  ' a tarnation  set  of  var- 
mints in  all  almighty  creation,^  and  when  he  ' got  toother 
side  the  big  pond,  if  he  wornt  a-goin  to  give  them 
"Jessie’^  in  the  newspapers.^  And  so,  lighting  a cigar,^^ 
added  my  Triend,  "he  took  up  his  valise  and  umbrella, 
and  started  furiously  for  the  New  York  packet.^^ 


THE  END. 


/iVy 


1 


